


Life in Bloom

by QuitePuzzledIAm



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Apples, Background Relationships, Brief Harassment, Cuddling & Snuggling, Educational, Explicit Language, First Dates, Fluff, I'm teaching you guys flower language you're welcome, IwaOi ships KuroKen, Kissing, Kuroo is Kenma's hero, Kuroo is clingy, Kuroo likes 1D, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Panic Attacks, Pining Kuroo Tetsurou, Slow Burn, Small mention of IwaOi smut, Trauma, YouTuber Kozume Kenma, the chad can leave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:15:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 57,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27764347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuitePuzzledIAm/pseuds/QuitePuzzledIAm
Summary: There was a difference between flirting and FLIRTING. Kuroo discovered that FLIRTING was going to have to come into his life at some point, in the form of a pudding-headed, shy, kitten-like man. *Hunger Games kiss thing*
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 705
Kudos: 450





	1. Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> If you have the time, please leave a comment! I wanna know what you guys are feeling about this so far! *P.S. Don't be afraid to just flat out say "QuitePuzzledIAm, you made a spelling mistake*

Kuroo liked working a day shift. During the sunny hours, he got to meet a multitude of people and he got to help the multitude of people as well. He considered himself good at his job, able to talk to customers smoothly and kindly, resulting in their faces usually being broken into a small grin or smile. 

He was also an enormous flirt, so he had been told. A good-looking, feline-like, handsome man working at a small flower shop was practically every young woman or man’s dream. And of course, he used his charm to great effects. For instance, right this second, he was in the process of getting a bashful young woman’s number.

“Hello, welcome to Life in Bloom, how can I help you?” he winked at the new customer after hearing the familiar tinkle of the bell tied to the door.

“Oh- yes. Er, hi,” the young woman stammered, approaching the counter, fidgeting with her hands and looking at him through her eyelashes. He found this quite endearing, even though many women reacted this way to him. “I’m looking for flowers that represent gratitude? I-if you have something for me, that is.”

“Give me just a minute,” he smiled at her, resulting in her face blooming into an impressive shade of pink. 

Humming, Kuroo sauntered into the back room, looking around the multiple bins, boxes, and vases until he plucked a few flowers and brought them back out to the counter. He set them there and leaned across, displaying the three. 

“Alright, this is a pink rose. These represent gratitude, appreciation, things like that. This,” he held up the second flower, “is a hydrangea, symbolizing very heartfelt feelings. And finally, this is a white camellia. These flowers symbolize adoration and liking,” Kuroo finished, looking up at her. 

“Oh! Is there a way that I could get these into a bouquet?” she asked, fiddling with her long, blonde hair. 

“Of course. I’ll just need your number and…” Kuroo never got to finish that sentence. Because at that exact moment, the prettiest man he had ever seen in his life slunk through the door and looked at him. 

“And…?” the woman asked, her voice filled with hope. 

“Oh, um. You know what? I think I can get you that bouquet right now, actually,” Kuroo answered absentmindedly, his eyes still glued on the newcomer. He didn’t see the woman’s crestfallen face as he, quite dazed, walked into the back room again. He snapped out of it when he realized that he had been randomly plucking flowers that didn’t match the arrangement and he hurriedly put together a bouquet. 

Kuroo speed-walked back out the room and handed the lady the flowers before he scooted over to the cash register and helped her pay for her purchase. The entire time he was doing this, he snuck glances out of the corner of his eye at the very pretty customer. Kuroo decided that he must have been around his own age, but it was hard to tell due to the way he shrunk within himself and looked at the ground. 

_ Cute,  _ a voice said in the back of his head. It had taken much, much too long for the woman to pay, but apparently, after hinting that she wanted his number several times and him not picking it up, she turned with a small pout and left the flower shop quite quickly. 

Heart pounding, Kuroo moved over to the counter and wiped his hands on his shirt. He didn’t know why he was nervous, after all, he was the textbook definition of a sex god, according to his friends. But when the man shuffled up to him and looked up at him, there was only one thought going through his head. 

_ No one should be allowed to look that good with bleached hair, an oversized hoodie, and skinny jeans.  _

However, what pushed him over the edge were his eyes. They were a clear shade of gold, almost like a cat’s, with small, thin pupils. When he looked up at the much taller man, Kuroo felt like he had taken a hard punch to the gut. Or the heart. This guy was, in his book, perfect. 

“Uh- hi,” Kuroo stuttered.  _ You lame piece of shit.  _ “My name’s Kuroo Tetsurou, how can I help you?” he asked, combing his wild hair back, something that usually made girls and guys swoon over him.

The other was unfazed. “I’m Kenma Kozume,” he said in the softest, quietest, and most appealing voice Kuroo had ever heard. “And I need something that says ‘fuck you’ in the harshest way possible.”


	2. Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can basically smell Kuroo's success from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fast inhales and exhales* I genuinely have no clue if I'm doing this right, but here we go!

Kuroo blinked. For some reason, ‘fuck’ didn’t seem right coming out of this seemingly peaceful, quiet man’s mouth. 

_ Kenma,  _ he chided himself.  _ A pretty name for a pretty guy.  _

“Is that right?” he asked. Kenma dipped his head. “I make it quite a point to know the backstories of my customers. Wanna tell me why you want to give a… nice fuck you bouquet?” Years of flirting experience spiraled out of his mind. He must have seemed like a desperate little bitch. However, Kuroo was quite in love and he was curious. 

“My roommate and his boyfriend don’t really keep it down at night,” Kenma answered simply. 

Kuroo chuckled, then slapped a hand over his mouth. Attractive as he was, his laugh was not exactly something people fell in love with. Kenma raised an eyebrow but held his gaze, tilting his head in the cutest way. 

“Right, I’ll get back to you in just a second,” he said quickly. If somebody put a hand on his face, they’d be burned with how much he was blushing. 

_ C’mon, Tetsurou. You have one chance to get his number.  _

That little voice was seriously starting to piss him off. Nevertheless, he turned around promptly and marched into the back room. Fuck you bouquets really weren’t that rare, as many people came into the shop for a little joke, but Kuroo didn’t know if Kenma was joking or not. He was really hard to read, it seemed like. Kuroo felt his face turn up into his signature side smirk. 

_ A challenge, huh? Alright, Kenma.  _

Half a minute later, Kuroo Tetsurou had an amazing plan. Smiling, he walked back out of the room, carrying two flowers. He leaned across the counter and held up the two.

“Alright, this is my floral recipe for absolute disaster,” Kuroo announced. Kenma made something that sounded like a snort, and Kuroo swore angels descended from heaven and blessed him. “This is a yellow carnation. These guys mean disappointment, and I think they’d fit perfectly in your little case. And this one,” Kuroo brandished the second flower, “is an orange lily, and they basically tell the receiver ‘I hate you’.”

Kenma examined the two carefully and while he was doing so, Kuroo watched him, wondering how nice it would be to pepper the pale skin of his exposed neck with marks and- BAD KUROO.

“Is this it?” Kenma asked quietly.

“Nope. There are a few more flowers and things to perfect this concoction of doom, but they haven’t arrived. If I could get your number, then I could call you when the shipment comes,” Kuroo answered easily, flashing a bright, convincing smile. 

_ Nice going, Tetsurou. _

Kenma blinked slowly before pulling out his phone. Kuroo made sure his face remained impassive, but he knew the minute that Kenma left, he’d be going out for drinks.

Kuroo unlocked his own phone and the two of them exchanged numbers, all while Kuroo was inwardly punching the air. 

Then, as quickly as he came, Kenma was gone with a small glance back and a hint of a wave. 

Kuroo watched the door for a few seconds, listening to the bell tinkle softly. He thanked his mother for giving birth to him and labeled Kenma’s contact as Kenma Kitten 💕. And yes, the hearts were insanely satisfying to type in. 

  
  



	3. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, look who's here! *jazz hands at BokuAka* Also, I'm immensely embarrassed at the amount of "bro" I put in here.  
> I'm so sorry for the short chapters, I'll make it up to you guys, I swear!

“Okay, bro, you tell me everything, right now. RIGHT NOW!” Bokuto Koutarou yelled at him over the chatter of the people at the bar. 

“Bro, I feel my confidence going, like, up to the heavens right now,” Kuroo laughed, flopping over to lean on his friend’s shoulder. “Oh my god, bro, he was so cute. Like… like a kitten! A shy little kitten!”

“Dude, show me a picture,” Bokuto demanded. 

“Ah man, I didn’t get a picture. But stop by the shop next time, maybe he’ll come back!”

“Okay, on a scale of one to Akaashi over here, how pretty is he?” Bokuto asked, tilting his head to his boyfriend sitting next to him.

“Bokuto-san, don’t be too pushy-” Akaashi was cut off by Kuroo’s loud ranting.

“Oh, bro, no one can beat Akaashi on looks. But Kenma’s like… like on a different level. He’s charming! Likeable! Fuckable! And I only just met him!” Kuroo declared, waving his hand around wildly. He believed in the phrase ‘No shame’, even though quite a few people turned their heads at the loud declaration of “fuckable”. 

“Are you gonna text him? Text him, bro!” Bokuto shouted, lunging for Kuroo’s phone. Akaashi sighed. 

Kuroo felt insanely happy. Maybe it was because of all the drinks he had. But there was something else. He was giddy, it felt like he was on top of the world. After all, what kind of lucky person got their newfound crush’s number on the first try? It was too good to be true, but Kuroo brushed this off and focused on trying to evade Bokuto.

“I’ll make sure to text him if you leave me the fuck alone, you nosy little shit!” Kuroo scolded teasingly as Akaashi pulled his boyfriend off of him. Bokuto pouted, his multi-colored hair deflating, but he instantly perked up when Akaashi planted a kiss on his cheek. 

Kuroo watched the two of them, holding hands under the table and exchanging little looks packed with love. He felt a small pang of jealousy in his heart. Twenty- two years of living and he’d never felt something like that from a significant other. Sure, he had flings. Sure, he hooked up with plenty of people. But he was quite lonely, even with his bro around and all his friends.

“Alright, I’m gonna have to cut you two off,” Kuroo waved away his self-pitying thoughts, smirking at the couple. Bokuto stopped in the middle of their make-out session and turned around, flipping Kuroo off before going back to kissing his flustered boyfriend. “It’s like I don’t exist!” Kuroo mused to himself, turning back to his drink. 

“B-Bokuto-san, Kuroo-san is right. We should be getting home,” Akaashi said, his mouth kissed red, courtesy of the enthusiastic and drunk Bokuto.

“Nooooo,” Bokuto groaned, peppering Akaashi’s neck with kisses. Kuroo looked at them in amusement, not feeling the slightest bit ashamed at this very public display of affection. Akaashi sighed, his face quite flushed, then whispered something in Bokuto’s ear that made him stop and turn slowly to his boyfriend. There was a moment of silence before Bokuto rocketed out of his seat and pulled on his coat. “Let’s go!” he exclaimed, wobbling on his feet.

“Hey, thanks for offering to drive us home,” Kuroo whispered to Akaashi as they left the bar. 

“Of course, Kuroo-san. I can’t very well let Bokuto-san drive himself home after an overindulgence of drink,” the other answered.

Kuroo hummed in acknowledgement before turning to Akaashi. “Say, what exactly did you tell Bokubro in order to get him to leave?”

“Well, there’s the car!” Akaashi announced loudly before speeding away from Kuroo. Kuroo smirked knowingly before following them to the car.

After a hasty drop-off at Kuroo’s apartment and a brief goodbye, Kuroo unlocked the door to his home and collapsed on his bed, tipsy and tired. His hangover was going to be the death of him tomorrow, but right before he fell asleep, he yanked out his phone and did what he called a “pro gamer move”. Well, maybe not super pro. But fuck it, he was twenty-two, drunk, and right as he finished texting Kenma, he passed out into his pillows.


	4. Kenma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Kenma's POV. Also, IwaOi is here! *more jazz hands*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for keeping up with me this far! Also, I published four chapters in one day. Heh. I-I may be overdoing this. But anyway, try and leave a comment! I hope that this long-ish chapter makes up for the shorter beginning ones.

Kenma had gone through enough shit today. First, he’d had to listen to his roommate moan all throughout the night (there were hella thin walls). Second, he’d basically been forced to give his number over to a messy-haired, tryhard young man. And third, the minute he opened the door to his apartment, he was greeted with a sight he never wanted to see again. 

“Oh, Ken-chan!” the annoyingly chirpy voice of his roommate, Oikawa Tooru, beamed at him. He was laying on the couch, completely nude, and his boyfriend, Iwaizumi Hajime, was very clearly inside him. Iwaizumi’s face was painted in a burning blush, not just from embarrassment, as he looked at Kenma guiltily.

“I- no,” Kenma sighed, covering his eyes and running to his room. Of course, it wasn’t the first time that he’d walked in on Oikawa and Iwaizumi having sex. In fact, it was at least the fifth. Kenma put up with a lot of stuff. Oikawa’s antics were just one of the many things he’d grown accustomed to as he adapted to living with him over the years. But this was getting quite unacceptable. 

Kenma raced into his room and shut the door behind him, collapsing on his gaming chair with an enormous sigh. A cream-colored streak dashed across the room and bounded into his lap. 

“Momo, there are a million spaces in this room and you choose to sit on me?” Kenma asked his Scottish Fold, only half- meaning his words. The cat purred as an answer and continued settling down in his lap. 

Kenma sighed once more, but ran a hand through the cat’s fur, rubbing behind her folded ears. He heard a sharp knock at the door and he glared at it, knowing what was about to come. 

“Come in,” he called grudgingly. 

The door swung open and Iwaizumi stood there, clothed now, but looking insanely sheepish. Kenma raised an eyebrow. 

“Look, I want to apologize for… that. Tooru is very convincing,” Iwaizumi said, looking at him.

“You’re fine,” Kenma sighed. He really couldn’t stay mad for long anymore, especially at Tooru’s charming boyfriend who usually meant every word he said. 

“You seemed pretty upset when you came back,” Iwaizumi tilted his head. 

“A bit. I met a guy,” Kenma said nonchalantly, stroking Momo. 

“A guy?” Oikawa’s head popped up behind Iwaizumi, his hair still ruffled from their little session. 

“Shittykawa, don’t just pop out of nowhere!” Iwaizumi scolded, flicking his boyfriend in the head. Oikawa squealed in indignation before turning back to Kenma. 

“Ken-chan, you said a guy?” he asked once more, his brown eyes twinkling curiously.

“Yes, Tooru. I don’t know if you noticed but there’s a lot of guys on the planet,” Kenma answered monotonously. Iwaizumi, he could forgive. Oikawa, not so much. 

“Oh, you know what I mean!” Oikawa bounced on his toes excitedly. “Was he cute?”

“No,” Kenma said flat-out. “His hair was offending.”

“You’re one to talk, Ken-chan! You look like a pudding!”

Kenma scoffed and swiveled around in his chair. Momo jumped off of his lap, looking very disgruntled. He exited the room and padded to the kitchen, Iwaizumi and Oikawa following close behind. 

“There was something about him that made me feel weird. I think it was his eagerness. He asked for my number,” Kenma continued, opening the freezer and rummaging around for his ice cream. 

“Eagerness? Well, now I have to meet him!” Oikawa said excitedly. 

Kenma turned around, glaring at him. 

“What?” he asked innocently.

“I don’t even know him, and I sure as hell don’t like him. He’s a complete stranger. Why on earth do you want to meet him?” Kenma demanded, feeling slightly defensive. 

“I wanna see if he’s cute!” Oikawa beamed, his happiness infuriating to Kenma. Iwaizumi made a little noise in his throat, and Oikawa whirled around to meet his boyfriend. “But of course, he can’t be as cute as Iwa-chan! My petite, dainty little boyfriend!” Oikawa hugged him. Iwaizumi snorted.

“I’m five centimeters shorter than you, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi shot at him.

“So small. So pocket-sized. I think I’m swooning!” Oikawa exclaimed, throwing a hand onto his forehead and holding onto Iwaizumi’s arm. 

Kenma shook his head and sat down at the kitchen table, taking a bite of his ice cream. 

“So, Ken-chan,” Oikawa continued, plopping down into the seat across from him. “Where did you meet this super not-appealing stranger?”

“Hm? Oh. A flower shop. Life in Bloom, I think it was called,” Kenma said, focused on his ice cream. 

“Never heard of it, but it sounds cute! Tell me, why were you at a flower shop?” Oikawa asked.

Kenma had to keep reminding himself to be careful around Oikawa because Oikawa Tooru could make the most stubborn person tell him every single secret they’d ever kept and then some. 

“No reason. I was only checking it out,” Kenma answered shortly.

Oikawa hummed in acknowledgement, but Kenma could feel his calculating eyes examining him closely. 

“What have you been doing?” Kenma asked, and Oikawa’s face morphed into a big pout. 

“Iwa-chan has to go back to university soon, so I’ve taken a break from coaching Takeru and his little friends to spend some time with him, but he’s always busy with homework, isn’t that right, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa shoved his boyfriend gently, who retaliated by ruffling his hair.

Oikawa had taken up being a volleyball coach, after not being able to go pro because of his knee injury. For two months, Kenma had had to deal with his sobbing, sadness, and his excessive consumption of chocolate ice cream while Iwaizumi had been at university across Japan. It’d been well over a year now but Oikawa’s face still flickered into sadness whenever Kenma brought up his knee condition.

“Say, you gave him your number, didn’t you? Are you gonna text him?” Oikawa asked.

“What? Of course not,” Kenma exclaimed. 

“Oh, Ken-chan. You don’t know how to flirt at all, do you?” his roommate tutted. 

“I never found a use for it!” Kenma said defiantly. This was true, as no one had really ever been interested in him to the point where they asked for his number. 

“Give me your phone,” Oikawa ordered. 

“No,” Kenma said stubbornly.

“Trashykawa, don’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want to!” Iwaizumi reprimanded, smacking the brunette in the back of the head. Oikawa yelped but still reached across the table for Kenma’s phone. 

They must have looked ridiculous, Iwaizumi holding his boyfriend back as Oikawa was sprawled across the table while Kenma leaned back as far as he could go without tipping backward on his chair.

With one final lunge, Oikawa succeeded in grabbing Kenma’s precious phone and swiftly unlocked it. Kenma scowled and sunk lower in his seat, Iwaizumi shooting him an apologetic look. 

“Oh? His name is Kuroo Tetsurou?” Oikawa asked, more to himself than anyone else. 

“Give me my phone back,” Kenma demanded. Oikawa ignored him and turned to Iwaizumi.

“Iwa-chan, you said you know a Kuroo! Remember, at the gym!”

Iwaizumi furrowed his eyebrows and nodded. 

“I met him once, I think. He’s an okay guy.” 

Immediately, Oikawa pulled out his own phone and tapped on the screen, Iwaizumi looking over his shoulder. Suddenly, Oikawa let out a long whistle before turning the phone to Kenma. 

Kenma glared at him but looked at the screen. Oikawa had opened up Instagram and there, plastered on his phone, was Kuroo’s account and a picture of him shirtless. Kenma blinked, staring at the man. Yes, it was the same flower shop man, with the messy hair and the cunning cat eyes. But unlike the nervous, stuttering flower shop man Kenma had met, Kuroo in this picture radiated confidence. It was a still picture of him on the beach, yes, but the way he looked into the camera and the way his mouth turned upward at the corners made Kenma’s heart falter a bit. His eyes lingered on his chiseled abs and broad chest. He only realized he’d been looking for way too long when Oikawa cleared his throat and wiggled his eyebrows at him.

“He’s kinda ripped, huh, Ken-chan?” Oikawa teased. Kenma could hear the taunt in his voice.

“Sure,” Kenma answered, turning back to his ice cream. And yeah, Kuroo in that picture looked really, really hot. So why was he a whole mess earlier today?

“Now I really wanna meet him!” Oikawa exclaimed, glancing at his phone again, most likely looking at Kuroo’s bio.

“You have a boyfriend, you know that, right?” Kenma asked.

“Of course! And I will love only Iwa-chan forever and ever and ever, for the rest of my life.” Iwaizumi blushed at this but didn’t say anything. “However,  _ you  _ don’t have a boyfriend!” Oikawa finished. 

Kenma stopped eating his ice cream to look at Oikawa. 

“No,” he said.

“Oh, come on! You need to go out! Meet people! News flash- you can’t marry your gaming console!” Oikawa argued. 

“Absolutely not.” Kenma looked at Iwaizumi for backup, but the man just shrugged helplessly.

“Well, too late! I know where he works and you can’t stop me from going there and checking him out!” Oikawa beamed. Iwaizumi buried his face in his hands. Kenma cursed inwardly.


	5. Gay Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title explains it all. Is that... *sniff*... a hint of Tsukkiyama? MaYbE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up, readers! Make sure to leave a comment about how bad my grammar is! Also *weird dancing* I have reached 5000 words! I know, I know. QuitePuzzledIAm, that's lame. But it means a lot to me! You know what also means a lot to me? You guys leaving comments! I don't wanna seem to be trying to guilt-trip you into leaving a comment or anything, but I'd really be thankful for it. I'm going to try and answer your comments if you do. AND I'M SO SORRY FOR THE SLOW UPDATES AND SHORT CHAPTERS THIS IS MY FIRST TIME DOING THIS

Kenma couldn’t sleep anymore. Not only was the threat of Oikawa going to the flower shop keeping him up, but the sight of Kuroo on the Instagram page was as well. He rolled over and sighed into his pillow. Apparently, the one night where he didn’t see Iwaizumi disappear into Oikawa’s bedroom was the only night he couldn’t sleep. Normally, he would have to wake himself up to play games. 

The silence was unsettling. It was quiet, and Kenma thought he would have enjoyed this, but it was just so… unnerving. He thought of the way that Iwaizumi draped his hand over Oikawa’s shoulder, how Oikawa curled into his boyfriend, taller than him by five centimeters but looking so small. Safe. Secure. For a flicker of a second, Kenma wanted something like this, even though love and romance and things like that were foreign to him. 

Kenma rolled back over onto his back and swung his legs over the bed. He needed to do something, or so help him, he would have to start breaking things. Just as he got out of bed, his phone pinged with a new message. Kenma lunged for it, eager to answer someone, anyone. He swiped open his phone, blinking at the sudden light, and stared down at his messages. What he did not expect was that the someone was Kuroo Tetsurou.

2:14 A.M.

Kuroo:

im not drunk i swear to the turnip gods that im not im sorry i didnt do anything

Kenma blinked at the text, knowing that, yes, Kuroo was drunk. His fingers paused at the keyboard, not knowing what to type. How did you answer something like that? He decided to go for a simple text. 

2:14 A.M.

Kuroo:

im not drunk i swear to the turnip gods that im not im sorry i didnt do anything

Kenma:

Research studies show that you are in fact drunk

Kenma looked over his message and cursed. He sounded so cheesy. 

_ You’re flirting, aren’t you?  _ A voice in the back of his head teased.  _ Shut the fuck up,  _ Kenma thought furiously at himself. He shouldn’t have been feeling this lighthearted at a text from a drunk guy with a horrible haircut. Or was his hair a failed attempt at trying to look sexy? Because it obviously wasn’t sexy. 

After a few minutes, it was clear that Kuroo wasn’t going to answer him back. Which made sense, he was most likely knocked out. Kenma fought away his disappointment and plugged his phone back into its charger sullenly. 

He collapsed back down onto his bed and pulled the covers over himself. After a moment of decision, he maneuvered one leg out of the blankets and rested it on top of them. Kenma stared at his ceiling, looking without really seeing. As he stared, he wondered what it would feel like to have Kuroo’s strong arms wrapped around him, their body heat mingling under the blankets. What it would feel like to curl up into his chest. 

_ The gay thoughts are getting to me,  _ Kenma thought absentmindedly. Then he rolled over again and promptly fell asleep.

Kenma really didn’t know how he’d gotten here. He’d rolled out of bed, gotten dressed, eaten breakfast, and BOOM. Suddenly, he was standing right in front of Life in Bloom with no clue as to why he was here. He stared up at the stark white letters that made up the sign and got a good look around. Two large flower pots sat on opposite sides of the entrance door, filled with greenery and small white flowers overflowing the rims. When Kenma looked up, he was greeted with three small hanging pots with big, vibrant flowers draping over their sides. He took a deep breath, shook the hair out of his face, and strode into the flower shop. A small bell rang upon his entrance just like last time, and Kenma looked around.

Sunlight filtered lazily through the big glass windows and fell upon a couple of large plants and ferns in the corner. On the shelves, there were little trinkets and knick knacks, like a small clay figurine of a turtle, or a big, colorful mug. Lining the walls were even more flowers, most of them wrapped and tied and sitting in stands, but some were just planted in round pots. 

“Hello?” a voice called from behind the counter. “Can I help you?”  
Kenma whirled around, his heart lifting, but it fell just as quickly as it had risen because the man behind the cash register was definitely not Kuroo. A kind-looking freckled man beamed at him from underneath a head of gray-green hair. One single strand popped up from his head like an antenna. Vaguely, Kenma realized that the man’s hair was the exact same shade of green as the plant set on the shelf behind him.

“Um… I’m here for Kur…” Kenma mumbled quietly.

“Oh, sorry? I couldn’t hear you,” the man apologized sweetly.

“Is Kuroo here?” Kenma blurted out. The man blinked.

“Ah, no. My name is Yamaguchi and I work Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. Kuroo takes the rest. I’m sorry,” the man said.

Kenma nodded, trying not to feel as disappointed as he was. 

“Did you need to tell him something?” Yamaguchi asked.

Kenma hesitated for a moment before shrugging.

“I’d rather I tell him in person, if that’s okay,” he whispered.

“No, no! That’s fine!” Yamaguchi waved his hands around frantically. His antenna seemed to be spazzing around nervously, too. “Kuroo’s here tomorrow, so you can stop by then!”

Kenma looked up at the distraught man and nodded again. Yamaguchi gave him a small smile before grabbing a watering can and heading outside. Kenma followed him. He watched the green-haired man bend down to start watering one of the flower pots before walking away. He didn’t get far, though, because as soon as he turned around, he ran into someone else. 

“Watch it!” the man snapped. Kenma looked up, up, up to meet eyes with a tall, scowling blonde man wearing glasses. Kenma shrunk back and tried to pick himself up off the ground.

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi yelled. Kenma heard light footsteps running over before a pair of hands started helping him up. “You can’t do that, Tsukki! He didn’t see you!” That was ironic, considering how much the tall man stood out.

“I don’t care, he ran into me,” the so-called “Tsukki” shot at Yamaguchi. However, Kenma saw the much taller man’s eyes soften slightly when looking down at the indignant green-haired man.

“I’m so sorry about Tsukki- Tsukishima! It was all his fault, right, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi nudged the other. 

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima fired back.

“Sorry, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi apologized, grinning up at him teasingly. 

Kenma looked at Yamaguchi, then at Tsukishima, then at Yamaguchi again before shaking his head. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. Yamaguchi let out a yelp.

“No, no, no, no, no! It’s not your fault! It’s entirely Tsukki’s fault! Bad Tsukki!” Yamaguchi smacked Tsukishima gently on the neck. “Apologize!”

After a second of scrutinizing Kenma, who wanted to die right then and there, the tall man sighed. 

“SorREE,” he sneered, meaning absolutely none of it. 

“You’re such a child, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi sighed before turning to Kenma again with his warm gaze. “Are you sure you’re okay? You just got hit with about a whole punching bag of salt.”

Tsukishima looked down at Yamaguchi in disbelief. “Did you just make a joke?”

Yamaguchi ignored him and kept looking at Kenma fretfully.

“I-I’m fine,” Kenma said, hushed. His eyes kept flicking over to the seemingly salty Tsukishima. 

“If you say so,” Yamaguchi said. “But if you want, you can hit Tsukki if it makes you feel better!” Kenma took one look at the face of the tall man and shook his head quickly. “Well, I’ll do it for you!”

Sure enough, Yamaguchi pulled back a fist and punched Tsukishima in the shoulder. Tsukishima didn’t move an inch, just looked down at Yamaguchi in exasperation.

“Well, anyway,” Yamaguchi said to Kenma. “Stop by tomorrow for Kuroo, okay?” Tsukishima tsk-ed at the name but didn’t say anything.

Kenma nodded. 

“Have a nice day, then!” Yamaguchi beamed. Kenma couldn’t help but give him a tiny smile before turning and starting quickly down the sidewalk. 

Behind him, he heard Tsukishima and Yamaguchi start up a conversation once more.

Kenma recalled the soft look the tall man had given the much shorter one, and he wondered if they were a thing. Just then, his phone dinged. 

He fished it out of his pocket and unlocked it.

12:34 P.M.

Kuroo:

shit im so sorry about last night… or morning. i think you figured this out but i was drunk like hell

Kenma snorted slightly at the text and quickly tapped out a response

12:34 P.M.

Kuroo:

shit im so sorry about last night… or morning. i think you figured this out but i was drunk like hell

Kenma:

Yeah I figured as much. Also what are the turnip gods?

Kuroo:

i told you i was drunkkkk 😩

Kenma: 

Just wondering

Kenma: 

How’s your hangover?

Kuroo:

im still throwing up leave me to die in peace

Kenma decided to be merciful and pocketed his phone with a small grin. Then he shook his head. 

_ No, no, no. It doesn’t matter how ripped he is, or how flustered he was. And it definitely doesn’t matter how funny he can be. Don’t get attached, Kozume.  _


	6. Jitters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo freaks out, Bokuto is a good bro, and Kuroo also needs to buy way more fruit baskets than he had intended to. Hey, can we all agree that we need a Bokuto in our lives? And an Akaashi? And a Yamaguchi?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's up, guys! Yes, I'm back with another chapter! No, I'm not up at 2 AM doing this. And YEEEEEESSSSSSS I'm getting comments! *weird victory dance*   
> Also, I've been looking at other fanfics and *inhale* MY CHAPTERS ARE SHORT AS FUCCCKKK COMPARED TO A LOT OF OTHERS I'M FREAKING OUTTT

Kuroo had been staring at his phone for a while now. After his absolutely horrible hangover, he’d dropped onto his rug and looked over the texts Kenma and him had exchanged. He could deduce a few things from Kenma’s texts. One, he had somewhat proper grammar. Two, he answered rather quickly, which led to Kuroo believing that Kenma wanted to answer him, which led to him wearing a wide smile. Three, Kenma seemed to like talking to him. He fucking brought up Kuroo’s little mention of turnip gods, for gosh sake! 

Then Kuroo’s phone rang. He almost dropped it out of pure shock, but he managed to fumble around with it and answer the phone without looking at who was calling.

“Hey,” he breathed out, heart thumping.

“Kuroo!” a bright, cheerful voice greeted him. It wasn’t Kenma’s voice, that was for sure, but Kuroo was still happy to hear it.

“Freckles, hi!” Kuroo said to Yamaguchi.

“Oh, don’t call me that. Also- wait give me a second,” Yamaguchi’s voice was cut off for a moment before Kuroo heard a distant “Tsukki!”

A few seconds later, Yamaguchi returned to the phone. 

“Sorry about that, Tsukki was being salty to a customer. Oh- I called to tell you that someone was looking for you at the shop!”

Kuroo sat upright abruptly at these words. 

“What? Who was it?” he asked, his hopes getting up again.

“Uh, I didn’t get their name, but he said he wanted to talk to you personally.” Kuroo felt the flicker of a smile upon his face, but he stayed silent. “Had hair that was bleached at the ends? Kinda small. Or maybe he was tall? I don’t know, he just seemed small because he was curling up within himself. Very polite too, even though Tsukki ran into him and didn’t apologize. I have to get Tsukki back for that,” Yamaguchi rambled on. Kuroo was really smiling now because Kenma, seemingly uninterested Kenma, had asked for him specifically and wanted to talk to him. 

“Is that so?” he asked faintly.

“Yeah! I told him you didn’t work today, and he looked kinda sad at that,” Yamaguchi mused. 

Kuroo felt his heart skip a beat again and curled up into a ball, grinning into his knees.

“You think he’ll be there tomorrow?” Kuroo asked softly. Hopefully.

“Darn, Kuroo, you’re really deep into this, huh?” Yamaguchi teased. Kuroo didn’t say anything, because of course, the green-haired man was right. “I told him to come around tomorrow and he nodded so, yes, I think he’ll be there.”

Kuroo ran a hand through his messy, already- tousled hair. 

“Yamaguchi,” he breathed out. The other man made a noise of acknowledgement. “I’ve known him for exactly a day. And I’ve fallen for him faster than gravity could even think. Shit, I’m screwed. W-what do I do?”

Yamaguchi stayed silent for a while, and Kuroo panicked for a second. But his voice came through the speakers soon enough.

“Love hits differently for everyone, Kuroo,” Yamaguchi whispered. “I’ve known Tsukki ever since I was born, and I think I’m at the exact same stage you’re at right now.” Kuroo didn’t say anything. He just listened. “And it’s going to be a little cliché for me to say this, but you just… need to go with your gut. You’re confident as hell, Kuroo, so put some of that to use.”

Kuroo blinked, swallowing slightly.

“K-Kuroo?” Yamaguchi squeaked after a full minute. “Did you die?”

“No. No, I’m still here,” Kuroo answered. “Hey, Yamaguchi?”

Yamaguchi hummed. 

“Thanks. Also, I get the feeling that Tsukishima likes you, too.” Kuroo hung up before Yamaguchi could answer, but he was ready to bet that the freckled man’s face was redder than a poinsettia. Kuroo also decided that Yamaguchi deserved a nice fruit basket because, fuck, that man could give advice. He leaned his head against the side of his bed and closed his eyes, formulating a plan. He was going to be at the shop tomorrow, and Kenma would be there too. He would ask Kenma to stay for a while. And he would, like Yamaguchi had said, let his gut take him from there. It was a fail-proof plan.

It was not a fail-proof plan. Kuroo was an absolute wreck. His closet was, too. And so was Bokuto, because Bokuto caught moods like they were something contagious. In fact, the only one who had an admirable amount of calmness in the situation was Akaashi.

“I don’t wanna seem, like, too tryhard, you know, bro?” Kuroo asked, not waiting for an answer. “I wanna seem casual, like ‘Oh, you just entered this shop and just happened to meet me looking insanely well-dressed’.”

“Well, I don’t know, bro!” Bokuto wailed, diving back into the pile of clothes. God, Kuroo felt like such a teenager, fussing over what he was going to wear on a not-date. 

“I suggest you all just… take a deep breath,” Akaashi said, exasperated but amused at the same time.

“Keijiiiii!” Bokuto whined, dragging out his boyfriend’s name. “This is no time for deep breaths, goddammit! My best bro is trying to look good but trying not to look like he tried to look good!”

Akaashi blinked at the sentence, no doubt trying to decipher it. He gave up, shaking his head and stepping gingerly into Kuroo’s room.

“Kuroo-san, aren’t you going to have to wear that apron over whatever you’re wearing anyway?” he asked.

Kuroo looked at him. Bokuto looked at him. They looked at each other. Then they promptly started shouting at each other again because this slashed off every possible option of clothing on the list.

Akaashi padded into the kitchen for a drink.

Kuroo had to remember to get Akaashi a fruit basket as well, because the man managed to pick up every single discarded piece of clothing, calm Bokuto down, and find a decent outfit for Kuroo to wear, all in half an hour. 

Kuroo stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, glaring up at the mess that was his hair. Usually, he didn’t bother with it because everyone said it looked natural, cool, and sexy. So he left it alone. However, Kuroo was in the mood to second-guess every single decision he made today and he didn’t know if Kenma admired his hair or hated it.

“Kuroo-san?” Akaashi called from outside of the bathroom. Kuroo tore his eyes away from the mirror and unlocked the bathroom door. Akaashi leaned on the door frame, watching Kuroo sulk over his image. “Kuroo-san, you don’t have to worry.”

“Bokuto worried about going on your guys’s first date, so I think I’m allowed to worry!” Kuroo squinted at his reflection. 

“Bokuto-san worried about our first date?” Akaashi wondered. “Oh, of course he did. But the point is, you need to stop fretting about how you look and start freaking out about how late you’re going to be.”

Kuroo whirled around and looked at the clock on his bedroom wall. “SHIT! You’re right, aw man, I’m gonna be late!”

He tore out of his bathroom before making a 180 degree turn and zooming back in, to Akaashi’s amusement. He gave himself a once-over, nodded, patted his hair, then ran like hell out of the bathroom again. 

He was halfway out the door when he realized he didn’t have the store keys and, cursing, he dashed back inside before being stopped abruptly by two pairs of hands. He blinked at Bokuto and Akaashi.

“Bro. You need to legit chill,” Bokuto laughed.

“Bokuto-san is right,” Akaashi agreed, patting Kuroo on the shoulder reassuringly.

“Yeah, man. You got this, okay?” Bokuto looked at him.

Kuroo inhaled sharply and jumped on the balls of his feet. 

“Yeah. I’m the man. I got this,” he said, feeling like he truly did not “got this”.

“We’re gonna be here,” Bokuto gestured at his phone. “And here,” he waved around the room. “So go get your man and come back as a winner, bro!”

Kuroo knew that he needed to get three fruit baskets because Bokuto really knew how to hype someone up. By the time he’d left his apartment, he was nervous, jittery, and sure as hell ready to see Kenma again.

Then he remembered that he needed his phone. 

  
  



	7. First Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo mans up and Kenma is sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments again, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals! *Yes I like Thomas Sanders* This is probably the shortest chapter by far heh I'm sorry.

At Life in Bloom, Kuroo had to take a few deep breaths before unlocking the store and flicking on the lights. 

_ Oh, get it together, Tetsurou! He’s just a cute guy who you so happen to have an enormous crush on! So pull it together and snap out of it!  _ Kuroo gritted his teeth and pulled the green apron over his outfit. 

Normally, he would have been thankful for a slow day. No customers meant that he could sit back, relax, maybe check his phone and get some rest. But today he sat upright, stiff as a board, drumming his fingers on the counter and glancing at the door every two seconds, his leg bouncing up and down. 

His thoughts over the hour went from,  _ Oh fuck, I should have done something with my hair  _ to  _ Whenishecomingwhenishecomingwhenishecoming  _ to  _ He’s not coming.  _ Kuroo was probably ready to just give up right then and there when the bell on the door announced someone’s arrival. 

He yelped, then toppled out of his seat, crashing onto the cold floor. He bounced back up, his face flushed, and saw two worried, golden eyes peering at him from on the other side of the counter. 

“K-Kenma-san! You came!” he said, dusting himself off and climbing back onto his chair. Kenma today had half his hair tied into a small bun and Kuroo thought it was the most attractive thing in the entire world, the way the yellow of his hair overlapped and mixed with the darker brown. Not only did his hair really stand out today, against his black clothing, but Kuroo honed in onto a little apple in the corner of his hoodie. _This is it, Tetsurou. You die today._

“Yes, of course I did. Are you alright?” Kenma asked, furrowing his eyebrows and tilting his head.  _ Stop being so cute,  _ Kuroo thought. 

“Hm? Oh. Yeah, just… checking out the floor!” Kuroo beamed, then automatically cursed at himself for being a cheesy asshole. To his surprise, Kenma laughed softly and rested his elbows on the countertop. 

“I don’t know if you have the bouquet ready, but I was hoping that I could pick it up today,” Kenma said quietly. Kuroo shot out of his seat and finger-gunned the smaller man. 

“Don’t worry, I gotcha covered!”

Then he dashed to the back room with the intention of smacking his face on the wall because holy shit was he awkward today.

Nervously, he leaned against the wall and fiddled with his apron. He had two minutes, tops, to try and get Kenma to stay at the shop to talk with him. Two minutes to get his charm on. Two minutes to possibly scare him away. Kuroo didn't know why he was such a fucking mess today. There really was no reason why his heart should have been racing like this, his face broken into a grin like this, his foot tapping nervously like this.

Kuroo wiped his sweaty palms on his apron and started picking out the flowers needed for Kenma’s wanted arrangement. He let out a huff of breath then, clutching the flowers and a sheet of plastic, he burst back out of the back room like a soldier running into enemy territory. Kenma was waiting at the counter, his eyes roaming around the store before stopping on Kuroo.

“Okay, I have your flowers. Yellow carnations, orange lilies, and geraniums for the extra kick of stupidity. That sound good?” Kuroo looked at Kenma while wrapping the whole ensemble together with a ribbon. 

“Perfect,” Kenma said simply, and Kuroo smiled. Now was his chance, while Kenma seemed to be in a good mood. Two voices battled it out in his brain. Quite simply, one side was cheering him on in Bokuto's voice. The other was hissing, telling him to abort mission even though they wouldn't get it next time, boys. A few awkward minutes passed, with Kenma fiddling with a stray flower, possibly waiting for Kuroo to say something.

“Um, hey?” Kuroo blurted. Kenma glanced up at him from behind a stray strand of hair. Kuroo wanted to push it behind his ear, but then he shook himself out of it. “I was wondering… wanna go get, like, a coffee or something? You can tell me about the backstory of this fuck you bouquet?” Kuroo said it like a question. Yeah, there were smoother ways of asking someone out, but Kuroo wasn’t really thinking. He was praying to his turnip gods at this point.

Kenma blinked his catlike eyes and tucked the strand of hair behind his ear. Kuroo crossed his fingers under the counter and bit his lip, his eyes flicking across Kenma's impassive face. _Why was he so hard to read? Dammit, Kenma._

“Er. Can you do something for me?” Kenma asked softly. Kuroo swore his heart plummeted straight to hell and he slumped slightly. For a moment, the hissing voice in his head scolded him for not listening to it in the first place, Bokuto's voice groaning sadly. Kuroo was a whirlwind of emotions, disappointment and rejection leading the tornado. But Kenma _was_ technically a customer, and, sadly, it seemed like that was all he was ever going to be.

“Sure,” Kuroo said glumly.

“Can you get me a red rose?” Kenma requested. 

Of course. Kenma just had to take his heart and stomp on it with his beat-up sneakers, huh? Someone like Kenma probably had a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Or just someone special to him. Someone who was luckier and faster than Kuroo had been. 

Not making eye contact with him, Kuroo slunk into the back room again and plucked a single red rose out of a vase. A petal detached itself from the rest of the rose and drifted slowly to the floor, landing on the tiles. He watched it, feeling numb, before turning around and exiting the room. He walked back to the counter and thrust the flower at Kenma, staring at the bell behind him. He felt fingers brush against his softly as Kenma took the rose delicately and he blinked rapidly. 

Kenma tugged at Kuroo’s sleeve gently. He looked down by reflex, staring at the small man. Kenma's face remained unreadable as he turned the red rose over and over in his hands. 

Then, to his immense surprise, Kenma offered the rose to him. Kuroo blinked before it hit him, the small flush on Kenma’s cheeks as they looked at each other, not breaking eye contact. Kenma was giving him a rose. Kenma was giving  _ him  _ a rose. And Kuroo felt like he was going to explode from the inside out with joy.

Kuroo didn’t bother biting back a smile as he took the rose gladly, twirling it between his fingers. 

“You said something about a coffee?” Kenma prompted. 

Now Kuroo was beaming. He grabbed his keys, his phone (he was  _ so  _ going to text Bokuto), and, with Kenma clutching his fuck you bouquet and Kuroo holding his rose, the two of them exited Life in Bloom, shoulders bumping against each other.


	8. Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma has *gasp* a sense of humor. They find out more about each other... InTIMAtEly (no no wait I'm kidding I can't write smut. But... maybe it'll be in here??)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I've reached like so many checkpoints that checkpoints don't even exist anymore! 500 views? *knocks over table* over 50 Kudos? *kicks chair* and COMMENTS?! *screaming, hell breaks loose* Thank you guys with the force of a million Detroit Smashes!

While they walked to the coffee place that Kuroo loved, they talked. Well, Kuroo talked and Kenma listened, nodding occasionally and chuckling at his jokes. A few times, Kuroo had to stop himself from running into the street and doing a few cartwheels because  _ he was on a fucking date with Kenma Kozume.  _

They stopped in front of a quaint little coffee shop. It was small enough to be cute and just big enough to get attention from people passing by. Kuroo held the door for Kenma as they walked in and he was thankful for the fact that it didn’t seem to be very busy. He could see Kenma take a deep breath, probably inhaling the rich scent of coffee and chocolate before relaxing. 

“Oh! Kuroo-san!” a loud voice called to him. He turned and watched the tall, lanky, silver-haired man stumble over to them. 

“Lev,” he greeted, trying not to laugh at the other’s clumsiness.

“Hi! Hey, who’s this?” Lev asked, looking a considerable way down at Kenma, who stared at the ground.

“Yeah, this is Kenma. Can we get a seat?” Kuroo asked, scanning the room for Yaku, who could usually yank Lev back into line. 

“Mhm! Also, is this your boyfr-”

“LEV, YOU FUCKING MORON, GIVE THEM A TABLE!” a voice bellowed towards them. Kenma jumped and Kuroo winced, but Lev yelped and almost tripped over a chair leg. 

“Ye-yes, Yaku-san!” Lev apologized.

A short-statured, brown-haired figure came storming out of the kitchen area, kicked Lev in the shins, grabbed Kuroo’s arm, and led the two of them to a table. 

“Sorry about him. You know how he is,” Yaku sighed, shaking his head as he gave them two menus. Kuroo laughed, knowing that Lev, even in his days on the volleyball team, had always been quite the energetic, clumsy type of person. Yaku glanced at Kenma but didn’t say anything before turning on his heel and dragging Lev behind the counter, to the latter’s displeasure. 

“He seemed interesting,” Kenma said shortly, fiddling with the corner of the menu.

“Which one, Yaku or Lev?” Kuroo retorted, smirking. Kenma’s mouth turned up at the corners. “So.”

“So?” Kenma said. 

“Oh god, I don’t know how to start a conversation anymore, do I?” Kuroo chuckled honestly, playing with his rose, which was set on the table. 

“Hello. My name is Kenma Kozume. I am twenty-one years old. And I’m a YouTuber,” Kenma mumbled. 

Kuroo gaped at him before bursting into laughter, the sound filling the coffee shop. 

“That’s one way to do it!” he said in between breaths. Kenma looked down, hiding a grin.

“Well, if that’s how we’re doing it,” Kuroo mused after his laughter had ended, “then my name is Kuroo Tetsurou, I’m twenty-two years old, and I’m a fucking florist, as you could probably tell!”

Kenma snickered, and Kuroo watched him, admiring the way his eyes crinkled at the end when he made a real laugh. 

“Hey… you said you were a YouTuber?” Kuroo asked.

“Oh. Yeah. It’s boring, though,” Kenma said hurriedly. Kuroo lifted an eyebrow. 

“What do you do as a YouTuber?”

“I… make gaming videos.”

“That’s awesome! Much cooler than watering plants and arranging bouquets!” Kuroo replied kindly. “What’s your channel name?”

Kenma hesitated before speaking. “PommeCatPlays.”

Kuroo blinked. 

Kenma continued on quickly. “Um. Pomme is French for apple. The rest you can figure out. It’s usually just shortened to Pom, though.”

“That is fucking adorable. Pom.  _ Pom, _ ” Kuroo said slowly, sounding out the name. He didn’t notice the slight reddening of Kenma’s ears. “Is that why you have that apple on your hoodie?” Kuroo nodded at Kenma’s outfit. Kenma looked down and mumbled something Kuroo couldn’t make out. “Sorry, couldn’t catch you. What was that?”

“It’s my merch,” Kenma blurted out. “It’s comfortable.”

Kuroo widened his eyes and leaned across the table, scrutinizing the embroidery. Sure enough, the apple symbol was wearing a tiny cat-ears headset. 

“Ohhhhh that’s so cute!” Kuroo squealed, his voice going up a few octaves as he bounced in his chair. Kenma flushed. “You must be a pretty big YouTuber to have merch at this point!”

Kenma shook his head, then stopped shaking his head. It  _ was  _ sort of true. But then again, he was the kind of person who lived life humbly.

“Well?” Kuroo prompted. 

“Thirty,” he said, quietly. Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows. “Million.”

Kuroo almost jumped out of his seat, his eyes wider than two full moons. “THIRTY MILLION SUBSCRIBERS- HOLY SHIT! I’M ON A DATE WITH A CELEBRITY!” he shouted.

Kenma couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction.

“A date, is that what this is?” Kenma teased.

“Well, what else would it be?” Kuroo asked. Thankfully, he was saved by Yaku, who came over carrying a notepad. “Right, just a black coffee for me.”

“Can I have a peppermint hot chocolate?” Kenma mumbled.

Yaku nodded, then turned to Kuroo and winked, tipping his head at Kenma, who was looking down at the table. Kuroo sputtered and turned to hit Yaku, but the brown-haired man was already swooping away. 

“Black coffee? What are you? A banker?” Kenma asked. Kuroo snorted, turning back to face Kenma.

“Nope. I’m a florist, actually, with a hot hairdo and a master’s degree in biochemistry.”

Kenma looked at him again. “So you’re a chem nerd.”  
Kuroo choked and waved his hands around frantically. “Well- yes. But, like, ya know, not the- shit. I’m not a nerd, okay! I just like chemical processes!”

Kenma stifled his laugh with a hand over his mouth.

“So a nerd and a gamer, on a date with a fuck you bouquet at the table…” Kenma said, after both their laughter had died away.

“A hot nerd,” Kuroo corrected. 

“I’m not calling you hot, if that’s what you’re trying to do,” Kenma quipped, grinning.

“Oh c’mon. You know I’m hot. I know I’m hot. Hell, even Yaku knows I’m hot!” Kuroo said, waving in the direction of said Yaku.

“I, for the record, do not think he is hot!” Yaku called to them. Kuroo tch-ed.

“If I had to measure you on a hotness level, you’d be an ice cube, Kuroo,” Kenma said seriously.

Kuroo perked up at the use of his name. When Kenma said it, it seemed delicate, like an origami crane. Like a new flowerbud. Like a bubble, glistening with liquid and shining with pastel colors. Kuroo decided that he liked how Kenma said his name. Now he wanted to see if “Tetsurou” could come out of the other man’s mouth. Another time, perhaps.

“Well, Ken _ ma, _ ” Kuroo joked, dragging out the last syllable of the other’s name. “Maybe if you got off that PSP, you’d be able to see how hot I really am.”

Kenma jumped, then looked sheepishly at him. “Sorry. Impulse.”

“You’re cool. Whatcha playing?”

“Nothing. I just like holding it for comfort.”

Kuroo had to admit that he was immensely relieved that Kenma wasn’t playing anything, seeing as their date so far was really fun. 

Yaku arrived at that moment, carrying a mug and a cup of coffee. He set the two drinks in front of their respective owners, then retreated back behind the counter.

Kenma sniffed, bending down to his mug of hot chocolate and putting his face close to it. Then, he flicked out his tongue and just barely touched the surface of his drink.

“Um. What are you doing?” Kuroo asked, watching him and holding his cup of coffee between his hands.

“Checking the temperature. Much hotter than you, trust me,” Kenma said solemnly, not breaking eye contact with Kuroo. Kuroo collapsed into laughter again.  _ What is this man doing to me? _


	9. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'll find out. I spent a lot of time working on this chapter *sniff*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo guys! QuitePuzzledIAm, you idiot, you didn't post for three days! I'M SO SORRY, GUYS! AAAaAAAA My goal is a chapter a day, but if I can't do that, please be patient with me! Also, I've gotten comMENTS! *wiggles*

In the warm, cozy setting of the coffee shop, the two of them were able to talk and laugh freely. And no, it was not just Kuroo talking this time. He’d discovered that Kenma talked quickly. Not like he wanted to get it over with, but more like he’d been holding in for a long time. His words sometimes slipped over each other and he had to stop occasionally to rearrange the next sentence that was about to come out of his mouth. Kuroo thought it was cute. But then again, Kenma could probably do something obscene and completely embarrassing and Kuroo would still think it was attractive.

“About our little friend here,” Kuroo said, nodding toward the bouquet of flowers next to Kenma.

“Oh, yeah. My roommate, Oikawa Tooru, has a boyfriend. And trust me, it’s happened so many times that I can tell when he’s going to come based on the pitch of his moans.”

Kuroo gagged on his coffee, eyes watering as he cough-laughed, causing Kenma to burst into another round of giggles. 

“I-I don’t think it’s… safe… to be drinking coffee while you-you’re around,” Kuroo gasped, grabbing a couple of napkins.

“That’s fair. But what’s really unsafe is coming over at night while his boyfriend is around,” Kenma laughed.

Kuroo froze. Kenma stopped his chuckling to look over at him curiously.

“You considered me coming over?” Kuroo asked. Kenma threw a wadded-up paper napkin at his face, but Kuroo caught a glimpse of his reddened face before he saw paper.

“You’re almost as annoying as my cat. Almost,” Kenma sighed. 

“You have a cat?”

“Yeah. Wanna see?”  
Kenma pulled out his phone and tapped a few times before holding the phone out to Kuroo. The camera roll consisted almost entirely of a single Scottish Fold cat in different positions. He examined a selfie of Kenma and the cat together, Kenma laying on a bed and scrunching his face up as the tail of the cat draped upon his face.

“What’s the cat’s name?” Kuroo asked, sliding the phone back to Kenma and resisting the urge to ask Kenma for some of those photos to be sent to him.

“Momo. She’s a girl and extremely lazy,” Kenma answered, tucking his phone away again.

“You like fruits, huh? First you got your channel name and now your little peach kitty,” Kuroo joked.

“Yeah, I like fruit. I’ve been told I’m very picky about food.”

“I see. Well, unofficial food critic,” Kuroo said, biting his lip. “Wanna come over to mine? You can judge my food, it’s about lunch time anyway.”

Kenma pursed his lips and looked over at his bouquet. 

“We can put it in a vase, if you’d like,” Kuroo offered. Kenma stared off in the distance. Kuroo started panicking. “Or not, if you’re too busy. Or if you just don’t- you know what? It’s fine-”

“Hm? Oh, no! I made up my mind about two minutes ago. I’m just thinking about how the next time we come here, I’m gonna get the apple tart,” Kenma hopped out of his seat, cradling his bouquet. Kuroo gaped at him.  _ This smooth motherf- _ “Coming?” Kenma asked.

Kuroo shook his head in disbelief, grinning down at his boots as he rose out of his seat. He looked over his shoulder at Yaku as they were exiting. Yaku, smirking, sent him a long wolf whistle. Kuroo stuck his tongue out at him.

It was only when they were almost at Kuroo’s apartment when he realized that Kenma had basically asked him out on a date. 

Kuroo swiveled on his heel when they were outside of his door. He faced Kenma and took a deep breath.

“You know, it’s kinda the first time I’ve had a celebrity at my place. Apologies in advance if it’s messy as hell. I was kinda… a wreck before I left the house?”

“So, basically, you were nervous for our date,” Kenma said bluntly.

Kuroo opened his mouth then closed it. He wasn’t wrong. He turned back to his door and unlocked it. On their walk home, he had texted Akaashi to leave the apartment, since he was going to take someone home. Akaashi asked him if he was going to get laid, then left Kuroo staring at the text in shock, his face slowly heating up like a burner. He pushed open the door and slipped out of his shoes, Kenma following in his footsteps. Kuroo carefully took the bouquet from Kenma’s arms, along with his rose, and walked to the kitchen. He turned on the sink, filled up a glass vase with water, and gently set the flowers in before looking up to Kenma. He was wandering aimlessly around.

“It’s almost funny how on edge you are,” Kenma called over his shoulder, not looking back. Kuroo stiffened, but he couldn’t deny the fact that his palms were sweating profusely due to the fact that a perfectly hot guy was in his home. Kenma started exploring the hallway, Kuroo’s eyes still following him. The other man paused in front of Kuroo’s bedroom, to Kuroo’s very frantic embarrassment, but didn’t do much more than take a small glance. 

“You were right about that mess,” Kenma said, turning to Kuroo.

Kuroo stuttered out an incomprehensible jarble of words and rushed over to quickly close his bedroom door. Kenma looked up at him, golden eyes slightly confused.

“Ah. It’s just that- you know. It’s messy as hell and I- god. It just…” Kuroo stammered, trailed off, giving up.

“You don’t want me to see your messy stuff,” Kenma supplied.

“Yes,” Kuroo snapped his fingers at the other. “Yes, I do not want you to see my messy stuff.”

“I’m okay with messy,” Kenma said truthfully.

“Yeah, from what you’ve been telling me, you have to deal with a shit of a roommate, so I would expect you to be accustomed to clutter,” Kuroo smirked. Kenma nodded seriously. They ended up going back to the kitchen, Kenma sitting down gingerly on the seat at the island and Kuroo pulling a black apron over his head. 

“Well,  mon chéri,” Kuroo said dramatically, holding out a hand to Kenma. “What doest Kenma Kozume crave the present day?”

“Was that fucking Early Modern English?” Kenma snorted, shaking his head.

“Perhaps. But don’t call it Early Modern English, Shakespearean English sounds so much more dope!”

“Just going by the facts, Kuroo. Also, you do know what mon chéri means, right?”

Kuroo whirled back to the stove because, yes, he did know what mon chéri meant. And no, he did not intentionally just call Kenma by that phrase. It was merely an impulse. He did not mean it. No, nope, not at all. 

“Sadly, the menu consists of only tamagoyaki. Forever,” Kuroo called over his shoulder as he started preparing said tamagoyaki. He heard Kenma snicker, which was beginning to be a very common noise, and he smiled down at the eggs. “Just making sure, you do like tamagoyaki, right?”

“Of course.”

“Thank god my tamagoyaki skills finally came in handy.”

  
  


Kenma was on cloud nine. No, above the heavens. On top of the whole universe. He was floating home now, after an admittedly good tamagoyaki. His heart was buzzing in his chest, beating out a rhythm that he snapped his fingers to because HE’D GONE ON HIS FIRST DATE AND HE DIDN’T FUCK ANYTHING UP! 

Now his mind was filled with Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo. Kuroo’s side smirk, which he’d quickly found out was usually fake. No, Kuroo’s real smile, not tweaked to the side. His real laugh, which was hard and genuine and Kenma loved listening to it. Hell, even his chaotic hair made him just a little more attractive than Kenma would like to admit. These things made up Kuroo Tetsurou and Kenma wanted to see every one of them again and again and again.

He wanted to jump, climb to the top of a skyscraper and yell to the whole world that he had fallen  _ hard  _ for Kuroo. Kenma had only felt this happy a few times, and he thought that this was going to be a memory that he was going to keep for-fucking-ever. He hugged his bouquet to his chest and grinned into the flowers.

His happiness was quite short-lived though, because the minute he stepped into his apartment, he was met with a sight that he never wanted to see. And it wasn’t Oikawa and Iwaizumi having sex. In fact, it was quite the opposite. 

Kenma watched in shock as Iwaizumi and Oikawa stood on other sides of the living room, both yelling over each other until their voices blended into a cacophony of noise. 

What he could make out was harsh:

“Wh-why don’t tell me anything anymore? I-I thought we ag-agreed to tell each other eve-everything!” Oikawa was crying, shaking while he forced out the words, hiccupping with tears running down his face.

“I KEPT THAT PROMISE! YOU DON’T LISTEN, YOU DON’T CARE!” Iwaizumi roared, his back facing Kenma so that he couldn’t see his expression. However, Kenma thought it must have been terrible, horrible because Oikawa collapsed under another wave of tears.

Iwaizumi hesitated. For just a tiny moment, Kenma saw his fists unclench. But that was gone soon because Oikawa was yelling again, 

“GET OUT!” Oikawa screamed, and Kenma winced at the sharp noise. Iwaizumi paused again.

“Tooru, wait-”

“GET OUT! GET OUT OF MY APARTMENT!” Oikawa yelled, the words cracking as he sobbed.

Iwaizumi, breathing heavily, turned on his heel, brushed past Kenma, and left the apartment without a second glance back. Right before he left, however, Kenma made a spur-of-the-moment decision and pushed the bouquet into his arms with steely eyes. Iwaizumi took it dazedly, eyes glassy and flashing, and was gone in a second. 

“G-get out! Get... Get…” Oikawa shook, sinking to the floor and crying all over again. Kenma rushed towards him and sat down on the ground next to the other man, whose flushed face was covered in tears and snot.

“Tooru?” Kenma asked gently. Oikawa ignored him, just kept on hiccupping and whispering raggedly to himself.

“M-my fault. No, d-don’t go, please, please d-don’t leave m-me,” Oikawa whimpered, clinging onto Kenma’s sleeve.

“I’m not going anywhere, Tooru,” Kenma reassured, rubbing Oikawa’s back soothingly. “It’s going to be alright, Tooru.”

Oikawa didn’t make another sound, the room filled with his sniffles and his slowly dying sobs. 

And they stayed there until Oikawa cried himself to sleep because even though Oikawa Tooru was a tease and a flirt, teases and flirts still got wounded.


	10. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No, the "friends" part is not about Kuroo and Kenma. Yes, more Oikawa. No, no, no, nothing too fancy. *I'm sorry, I'm a Star Wars nerd*
> 
> Kenma is a good friend and that's all I'm gonna tell you ;)
> 
> I think I've made up my mind. I think that if y'all just press "Entire Work" when reading, then all my tiny chapters combine into one big one! *pats myself on the back* I'm so smart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple fights: I am... inevitable  
> Kenma: And I'm single for now and I hate you get out of my mind
> 
> I love how the minute my Iwaoi angst chapter came out, I got like three million comments. I would like to acknowledge moonjaejae for commenting about ten different times. Wherever you are, moonjaejae, *finger guns*, I respect you.

Understandably, Oikawa was a mess the following day. Kenma wanted to do something, anything, to help his friend but that was slightly difficult when Oikawa wouldn’t leave his room in the first place. He could hear sniffling and the soon-familiar sounds of crying through the wall but that was the only proof Oikawa was still alive. At one point, Kenma got angry after a disappointing result from knocking at his roommate’s door.  _ It’s just a fight, they can get back together! Iwaizumi, Tooru, one of you, just hurry up and do something! You’re only hurting yourself and each other!  _

He regretted it. Not immediately, but he came to a slow realization after a few hours of frustration. Just a week ago, Kenma would have been heartless, keeping this train of thought in his mind until it fueled all of his actions with a silent anger. 

Now, as he sat at the kitchen table, playing with his spoon in front of his carton of ice cream, he understood. It was a feeling, just an instinctive understanding inside of him. Oikawa was hurting. Not a physical pain, one that burned within and tore people apart. Heartbreak was an understatement. 

So, sighing, Kenma set down his spoon and walked down the hallway once more to Oikawa’s room. He knocked on the door gently. No answer. Kenma was not surprised, nor was he disappointed at this point. 

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

He blinked at the sudden darkness and his eyes adjusted slowly to the dim room. The blinds were closed and there were several empty tissue boxes littering the floor. There was a lump of rumpled blankets curled up on the bed that Kenma assumed was his roommate. He stepped into the room, avoiding the boxes on the ground.

“Tooru?” he asked cautiously. No answer. Kenma was worried now, that this fight had affected his friend more than he thought it had. He maneuvered his way to the side of the bed and shook the lump of blankets gently.

A small groan arose from the pile and the figure stirred slightly. Kenma breathed a sigh of relief and he carefully pulled back the covers. Oikawa’s ruffled head of usually-perfect brown hair peeked out from under the thick comforter. Slowly, the blankets shifted until Kenma was looking down at his friend’s face. 

He couldn’t make out all the details in the dim room, but he could tell Oikawa had been crying for a long time. His eyes were red and puffy, tear tracks stained his cheeks. Kenma placed a hand on Oikawa’s clammy forehead and pushed the hair out of his eyes. 

“Tooru, you should get out of bed,” Kenma suggested softly.

“Why?” Oikawa’s voice was hoarse from all his crying and dull with the lack of motivation to move.

“It’s not healthy to not do anything. I’ll get you something to eat,” Kenma said. Oikawa made a non-committal noise and sniffed before heaving himself up and sitting upright in his bed. Kenma started opening all the blinds and picked up the tissue boxes before heading out of the room. He had started cooking the rice earlier and now he began preparing miso soup. 

Almost immediately after the rice had finished, he heard soft footsteps behind him. Kenma turned around to see Oikawa, still in rumpled pajamas and still looking like a mess, blinking at him blearily with glossy eyes.

“Good morning, Tooru.”

“Mm.”

“I made you lunch.”

“Mm.”

“I bought you milk bread.”

“Mm.”

“ _ I bought you milk bread.”  _

“Mm.”

Kenma furrowed his eyebrows. Oikawa was practically known for overreacting, but Kenma couldn’t be mad at him. Not when he was standing in the kitchen, looking so lost and so alone.

“Was it my fault?” 

Kenma startled at his words, then looked at him. Oikawa’s face was crumpled into confusion, his bottom lip trembling.

Kenma opened his mouth, then closed it again. There was a fine line between honesty and rudeness, and he didn’t want to cross it. This was not the time for that.

“I think,” Kenma began slowly. “I think that the blame can be placed elsewhere right now.”

“I want an honest answer.”

“Then you have to ask that question yourself.”

Oikawa fell silent again, wrapping his arms around his lanky frame. Kenma turned back to the food and started putting it into bowls and plates. 

“Do you think… do you think I’m too dependent on Iwa-ch- Iwaizumi?” Oikawa’s voice came up again from behind Kenma.

“Love is two ways, Tooru. You co-exist with him, vice versa,” Kenma answered immediately, trying to ignore the fact that Oikawa hadn’t called Iwaizumi by his nickname. He blinked at his own response. He wasn’t really sure where that had come from, nor was he sure that it was a good answer. But he did see Oikawa give a tiny nod out of the corner of his eye.

Oikawa cleared his throat and rocked on his heels before asking his next question.

“Am I a b-bad boyfriend?” His voice was thick as Kenma swiveled around, carrying the lunch.

“Tooru, you’re being a bit unreasonable,” Kenma said, trying to be as gentle as possible. He walked to the dinner table, Oikawa trailing along behind him. He sat down next to Kenma and stared down at his food. “Of course not. Couples fight, it’s normal. I wouldn’t know how good of a boyfriend you are, though. Only one person knows that.”

Oikawa didn’t answer. He just gazed at his food, not really looking clearly. 

“It hurts,” he whispered after a long silence. 

“Hm. Yes, that’s understandable,” Kenma answered. “It should.”

“I didn’t want to fight.”

“What… what did you two fight about?”

Oikawa didn’t answer, and Kenma was afraid for a second that he’d overstepped. He opened his mouth to apologize but then Oikawa began speaking.

“You heard some of it already.” 

Kenma nodded. Oikawa stopped there, so Kenma didn’t push any further. He just scooted closer to him and wrapped an arm around the taller man’s shoulder. 

So here was Oikawa Tooru, confident, quick-witted, and silver-tongued, with nothing to say, curled up under the anti-social, quiet Kenma Kozume’s arm. Kenma rubbed slow circles into Oikawa’s back even though he didn’t cry or collapse into tears again. Oikawa just let out a long, heavy sigh as he leaned into Kenma.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you,” Oikawa murmured.

“It’s alright, Tooru,” Kenma reassured. 

Kenma continued tracing patterns into his friend’s shoulder when a thought made him falter slightly.

_ If… just if… if he and Kuroo were to become something more, something stronger… Would they be in Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s positions? Would Kenma be curled up under Oikawa’s arm and would Kuroo… be off doing whatever Iwaizumi was doing? _

Kenma certainly didn’t want this. He didn’t want to fight with anyone, and he hardly wanted to fight with flirty, smirking Kuroo who he had a crush and a half on. But, like he’d said earlier, weren’t fights normal? Wasn’t it inevitable?

His head was starting to hurt, and when he glanced at the brunette on his shoulder, he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Oikawa needed him. Oikawa was what he had to worry about, until the other could rise back to his feet and summon just an ounce of bravery.

He apologized mentally to himself. Kuroo, his crush and a half, would just have to wait. 


	11. Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whips* I'm sorry for not updating! *nae-naes* Thank you guys so much for all your comments and Kudos's! And I'm also sorry for the bros. You'll know what I'm talking about.   
> Also, I just imagined this scene. Just picture Akaashi having to go after his boyfriend:  
> Akaashi: Hey- BOKUTO-SAN, GET BACK HERE!  
> Kuroo: Forget it, Akaashi. *takes off sunglasses* He's going to bro town  
> Kuroo:  
> Kuroo: *yeeting the sunglasses and running after Bokuto* I'm coming, bro!

Kuroo rolled a pen around on the counter, lazily watching it drop to the floor. He didn’t want to pick it up. The bell of the door rang and he looked up hopefully, but it just turned out to be a stranger. Well, that was expected, since Kenma hadn’t been answering his texts or coming to Life in Bloom for three days straight.  _ Three days isn’t a long time,  _ he told himself. But this was Kenma he was talking about, Kenma who answered his texts fast as fuck, Kenma who’d promised to take him on another date. Sure, they didn’t set up a specific time and place, but it was implied! Kuroo had been a little bitch that day, pouting and sighing loudly all while at the counter. He tried putting on a smile for some of the customers, but that just led to more flirting, which led to him wanting to see Kenma so that he could hear his quiet giggle and his quick retorts again.

“Welcome to Life in Bloom,” Kuroo said monotonously after hearing the bell, not looking up.

“Is that how you treat all your customers, Kuroo?” a soft, teasing voice asked.

Kuroo looked up to see Yamaguchi tugging at one of the strings on his green apron that he had just slipped on.

“Freckles-kun?” Kuroo questioned. “You don’t work today.”

“I know, but I wanted to pay you a visit!” Yamaguchi sent him a beaming smile. Kuroo cursed this man for being such a precious human being. That was ironic, as the precious human being certainly had a thing for the saltiest, sassiest person in the world. “Also, I could see from a mile away that you’re depressed over something.” 

Okay, maybe he wasn’t such a precious human being. 

“Ughhhh,” Kuroo groaned, resting his head on his arms and pouting at Yamaguchi as he walked behind the counter. “I’m the textbook definition of lonely.”

“Haven’t you always been single?” 

“Hey! I’ve had more relationships than you have!”

“And where are all those relationships now?”

Kuroo fell silent. Then he looked at Yamaguchi.

“What’s your point?”

“Well… clearly this guy, Kenma, is important to you,” Yamaguchi explained.

“Go on,” Kuroo said slowly.

“I just wanna… make sure… that he’s not just another month-long fling?” Yamaguchi squeaked out, not making eye contact with Kuroo. His little antenna quivered at the top of his head.

Kuroo blinked. The thing was, he wasn’t sure if Kenma was just a fling. He didn’t feel like one. But isn’t that what he’d thought about every other hookup?

“I’m not sure,” Kuroo said simply, shifting his arms on the table and adjusting the way his head rested on his forearms.

Yamaguchi glanced at him, his big eyes widened with confusion.

“You’re just gonna wing it?” Yamaguchi asked, dumbfounded.

“Sure,” Kuroo sighed as he got up from his place. “That’s what I always do, anyway.”

He strode to the back room, feeling Yamaguchi’s disbelieving stare watching him. Kuroo closed the door behind him and rested the back of his head on the wall.  _ Am I moving too fast? Should I take it slower? What should I do?  _

In his past “relationships”, Kuroo had usually just had a few bouts of flirting with the other guy or girl, hooked up with them, and then either he or they left willingly. That was that, and Kuroo was okay with it.  _ Yeah. Okay, I’m a fucked-up person.  _

Kenma was a wild card, he had been a lot of firsts for Kuroo. His first actual date, his first bisexual panic. His first real, true, genuine crush.  _ And he has no idea what he does to me,  _ Kuroo thought wryly. He stared vaguely at a light pink dahlia, nestled in with all its brothers and sisters tightly.

But he figured sighing and bitching about it in this stuffy back room wasn’t going to do him any good. Wearily, he pushed the door open and walked back to the counter. He was greeted this time by a laughing blonde man, gazing down at a giggling Yamaguchi adoringly. Then Tsukishima looked up at Kuroo and the smile was wiped off his face, replaced with a scowl.

“Tsukki-dude!” Kuroo shouted. Tsukishima’s frown deepened, and Yamaguchi snorted.

“Do not call me that,” Tsukishima sighed in exasperation, knowing full well that he couldn’t stop Kuroo from calling him the nickname.

“Why? Only your boyfriend can do it?” Kuroo teased. Yamaguchi shrieked and turned a shocking shade of fuschia. However, Tsukishima held Kuroo’s calculating gaze.

“Perhaps,” Tsukishima answered simply. Yamaguchi, waving his hands frantically, was blabbering a bunch of nonsense that made no sense to Kuroo. Apparently, it didn’t make any sense to Tsukishima either because the much taller man looked down at the other in concern.

“You broke him,” Kuroo started laughing.

“He is not a toy, nor a device. I did not break him,” Tsukishima reasoned, nudging the blushing Yamaguchi with a foot.

“You better fix him, I can’t have dead workers here,” Kuroo sing-songed. 

Tsukishima shot him a cold glare that would’ve terrified any other person, but Kuroo just smirked and raised an eyebrow. Hesitantly, Tsukishima raised his hand and slowly started petting Yamaguchi’s head, smoothing down his ahoge with each stroke. Yamaguchi froze instantaneously.

“Calm down, Yamaguchi. It’s not that big of a deal,” Tsukishima said in his flat voice, a hint of affection making it just a bit softer.

Yamaguchi leaned slightly into his touch. Then he whirled around and punched Tsukishima in the gut. Of course, it was quite gentle, but Tsukishima still staggered back a few steps. 

“It’s a big deal!” Yamaguchi whisper-shrieked. “You basically called me your b-boyfriend!”

“Yes, and?” Tsukishima shot back, a small grin taking the kick out of his retort.

“Yeah, and? It’s not like you guys don’t love each other,” Kuroo said. 

Tsukishima became very interested in the tiled floor. Yamaguchi dashed over to him and smacked him in the shoulder. 

“Shut. Up!” Yamaguchi hissed, a furious red painting his cheeks. Kuroo snorted but pretended to zip his lips shut. Yamaguchi turned away, fanning at his face to (unsuccessfully) try to diminish the flush on his face. Kuroo unzipped his lips. “And besides, it’s not like YOU don’t like someone!”

“Oi! At least I’m admitting to it!” Kuroo stuck his tongue out at Yamaguchi.

“What’s this? An asshole like you is actually catching feelings for some poor soul?” Tsukishima mock-gasped at him.

“What’s this? A bitch like you is actually head over heels for some poor soul?” Kuroo shot back, pretending to be shocked. 

“Yamaguchi is not a poor soul,” Tsukishima glared at him.

“Wait, what?” Yamaguchi asked, the flush returning to his freckled cheeks.

“What?” Tsukishima tilted his head, feigning confusion. “So, who’s the poor soul in your little fairy tale?” he asked, changing the subject smoothly.

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you?” Kuroo smiled sickly-sweetly. 

“It’s a guy named Kenma, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi called over his shoulder. Kuroo’s mouth dropped.

“Traitor!” he cried.

“Sorry. But his name’s Kenma and apparently he’s famous,” Yamaguchi said. 

“Don’t you dare do it,” Kuroo warned Tsukishima, who was reaching for his phone. 

“You are not the boss of me,” Tsukishima said.

“But he is,” Kuroo retorted, nodding at Yamaguchi, who hadn’t turned around.

“Put the phone away, Tsukki. Kuroo, get back over here,” the green-haired man ordered.

“Ha!” Kuroo laughed, then stepped back into the counter area.

“Bro, he hasn’t been answering you?” Bokuto asked, flopping onto the couch next to Kuroo. 

“Nah, bro,” Kuroo sighed. “Bro, I dunno if he’s ignoring me or something. I don’t think I did anything wrong!”

“Bro, you’re second-guessing yourself. You’re having,” Bokuto waved his hands around, “Romantic feelings.”

“Bro,” Kuroo gasped. “Not the romantic feelings.”

“I’m lucky I only experienced them once, bro,” Bokuto shook his head solemnly.

“With Akaashi, bro?”

“No. With this owl I saw at the zoo.”  
“Was he hot, bro?”

“Oh yeah. Like, he was smokin’. Sexy as hell, bro. We made eye contact and it just… clicked,” Bokuto said. 

“I remember that you said that I was ‘sexy as hell’, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi chuckled, walking into the living room.

“Bro, is Akaashi the owl?” Kuroo asked.

“He can be, bro. But I’m not gonna lie. The owl was hot. And cute. Hot and cute. But Akaashi’s, like, hot, pretty, really,  _ really  _ awesome, and basically perfect,” Bokuto gushed, shooting his boyfriend a loving look.

“Bro, it’s so awkward now,” Kuroo said. 

“Sorry, bro.”

“It’s all good, bro.”

“Bro.”

“Bro.”

“Bro-”

“Please stop with your brofest,” Akaashi sighed.

“I never thought I’d hear Akaashi Keiji say brofest,” Kuroo mused.

“Me neither. Then again, Akaashi’s always surprising us,” Bokuto nodded. “But back to your crisis, bro.”

“Bro, I dunno. I didn’t think I’d fall this hard for him,” Kuroo let out a puff of air that sent one of his locks of hair out of his eye. Then it flopped back over again.

“Bro, that’s what the romantic feelings are. You feel this warmth inside you, bro. Like you’re about to explode. The world seems different when they’re around,” Bokuto said.

“Exactly, bro. You’re so smart,” Kuroo clapped for Bokuto, who dipped his head in fake modesty.

“Don’t worry, bro. You got this. Go with the flow. Be natural! But not too natural. Don’t wanna put him in the friend zone, bro,” Bokuto warned.

“Oh yeah. The friend zone,” Kuroo shuddered. 

“I’m done here,” Akaashi said, throwing his hands up and leaving. 

“We’re too bro for him,” Kuroo shook his head.

“Bro power.”

“Bro power.”


	12. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm shout-outing False_hope for being one of the most supportive freaking people in the entire world. Wherever you are, I thank thee. *tips hat*
> 
> This is a pretty soft and cuddly chapter. At least, in my book. I'm not sure, I have a messed up idea of what peace is. But anyway, enjoy! I don't wanna call you guys... 'guys'. Have any ideas what y'all can be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, here's another chapter, guys! I think I'm on a pretty steady schedule right now, I'm kinda proud of myself! Anyway, enough about me. Back to the KuroKen! *boogie-woogies outta here*

Kuroo was expecting his mail to come in the morning. And when he opened his door, he was expecting to see mail. However, he opened his door, yawned, and looked down to see Kenma Kozume blinking up at him.

But it wasn’t just Kenma Kozume. It was Kenma Kozume all dressed up, clad in a white dress shirt and black slacks, the shirt tucked in neatly. His bicolored hair was pulled back in a very attractive ponytail, but Kuroo was more focused on the fact that the top two shirt buttons were undone, exposing Kenma’s gracefully curving collarbone. 

For a minute, Kuroo wondered what it would feel like, to suck and lick at that collarbone, kissing all the way down Kenma’s neck. He wondered what it would feel like to have Kenma's small, lithe body lurch in submission to him as he- 

_ Fuck you, Tetsurou. Get out of my head, horny thoughts.  _

“Sorry about this, Kuroo. But I went to a convention and I need a place to hide from the people following me,” Kenma said in a rush. Kuroo cracked a small smile at hearing Kenma’s soft, quiet voice again. 

“Wait- people are following you?” Kuroo asked, squinting his eyes, dropping his smile.

Kenma shrugged. “It’s only natural. They all wanna know where I live. I’m sorry that I’m bothering you, now that I think about it, I think they’re only gonna come to harass y-”

Kuroo pulled Kenma into his apartment and promptly shut the door. He locked it, too, for good measure. His mail would have to wait. He turned around and looked at Kenma, who looked right back with those big, golden eyes. Kuroo took three big steps to where he was standing and then wrapped the smaller man in a tight embrace.

He heard Kenma make a little “oof” sound, but he didn’t let go. Kuroo buried his face into Kenma’s hair and slowly, he felt two arms wrap back around him, patting him gently on the back.

“I was really worried, you know. I thought you’d been abducted, or died,” Kuroo whispered, twirling a bleached strand of hair.

“Hm,” Kenma hummed. “I was just a bit caught up with some other stuff. You shouldn’t have had to worry.” His voice was slightly muffled and Kuroo could feel his breath through his shirt and onto his skin, causing goosebumps to spread all over his body.

Kuroo let out a big sigh, one that sent a tingle down his soul. Kenma was warm against him, and so small. Not fragile, but Kuroo still wanted to hold Kenma there forever, so that he wouldn’t ever be hurt and wouldn’t ever, ever have to leave him.

He gave one last big squeeze and then, reluctantly, let the other man go because Kenma probably needed to breathe at some point.

Kenma tilted his head curiously, watching him. Kuroo felt his ears burn, and he buried his face in his hands, sinking to the ground dramatically.

“Damn, now it’s awkward,” he mumbled, slightly muffled.

“It’s alright. Awkward can be good,” Kenma laughed.

Kuroo heaved himself to his feet and walked to the kitchen, still not fully awake yet. 

“Want coffee?” he asked over his shoulder.

“That sounds good,” Kenma answered as he took a seat at the island.

“So, tell me,” Kuroo said. “Why exactly are you all dressed up? Not that you don’t look good, but I didn’t take you for the type to wear a dress shirt at all.”

Kenma snorted. “Yeah, you’re right. But I had this little convention I had to go to, you know, like a meet and greet.”

“At,” Kuroo glanced at his clock, “before eight in the morning? I’m so sorry for you.”

“I only got about three hours of sleep last night. I bet my fans were all very disappointed to see me with dark circles.”

“I’m more concerned as to WHY in the entire world someone would make you get up before seven in the morning.”

“I’m more concerned as to when you wake up.”

“My record was till five in the afternoon.”

“You’re a disgrace to society.”

Kuroo glared at Kenma, who blinked calmly. Then they both collapsed into fits of laughter. 

“How do you want your coffee?” Kuroo asked after the last giggles had died down.

“Uh. Lots of sugar? And cream?” Kenma made all his requests seem like a question. Kuroo turned around in disbelief.

“One, that’s not coffee, that’s like, milk. Two, you’ve never had coffee before, have you?” Kuroo asked.

Kenma scrunched his nose, which caused Kuroo to almost drop his cup because  _ holy shit that was adorable _ . “I’ve had coffee! It’s just- I don’t like it. I don’t like the taste.”

Kuroo held a hand to his chest in disbelief. “No. It’s not true. This can’t be. I’m sorry, Kenma, but you need to leave.”

“How rude,” Kenma played along. 

“Since you can’t drink coffee, what do you want? Apple juice?” Kuroo teased.

Kenma perked up, to his disbelief. “Do you actually have that?”

Kuroo burst into laughter, doubling over in hysterics. 

Kenma frowned at him, sticking his bottom lip out. “I’m not joking, do you actually have that?”

“Oh god, Kenma,” Kuroo wheezed, wiping away a tear. “You’re the best.”

“Gee, thanks,” Kenma said dully. “You didn’t answer me, do you have apple juice or not?”

“Would orange juice work?” Kuroo asked, heading to the refrigerator. 

“What? No!” Kenma said indignantly. “Orange juice is the worst. I don’t care if it’s pulpy or not, it’s just gross.”

“You’re a child,” Kuroo marveled, to Kenma’s displeasure. “Just a kid in a suit. A whiny kitten.”

“I would actually _ , genuinely  _ rather be called a kitten than a child,” Kenma shot back.

“Alright then,” Kuroo grinned, pleased that his little plan had worked. “Kitten. That’s what I’ll call you.”

“Wait, no,” Kenma jumped off of his seat and pointed at him. “Don’t call me kitten.”

“Too late. You’re halfway there to being a cat anyway. Besides, kittens are cute and so are you!” Kuroo beamed innocently, punching the air inwardly after seeing Kenma’s ears turn red.

“Don't say stuff like that, Kuroo,” Kenma mumbled, sinking back down into his seat.

“Cheer up, kitten. I have an apple, you want that?” Kuroo taunted, grabbing an apple from the refrigerator and waving it in front of Kenma’s face.

Kenma snatched it out of his hands and chomped into it with such ferocity that Kuroo took a small step back. He watched, transfixed, as the tip of a pink tongue darted out from between Kenma’s lips and licked away the juice. And Kenma stared back at him the entire time, tilting his head challengingly. Yeah, Kuroo was completely turned on now. 

_ Don’t you dare rush a thing, Tetsurou,  _ his mind hissed after his thoughts had strayed a bit too far into the dark side.  _ No matter how sexy and appealing he is.  _

He tore his gaze away from Kenma and turned back to his coffee, pouring himself a cup and walking around the island to sit down next to Kenma. The other leaned over and peered at his coffee, Kuroo’s heart practically failing as Kenma’s chin rested on his shoulder delicately, like a little butterfly. Practically weighing nothing but he, nonetheless, stilled.

“Ew. Black coffee.”

Kuroo shrugged violently, causing Kenma to have to get off of his shoulder, laughing. Kuroo watched Kenma’s face as he chuckled, staring at the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and how that big smile made him look like a child. A happy, carefree child. And Kuroo had caused it. 

He was kind of proud of himself. But Kenma had still insulted Kuroo’s coffee, so the man had to defend his honor. He gave Kenma’s ponytail a little tug, smiling at the small noise of indignation the other made. 

“I just realized that I probably woke you up. And most likely barged into your home without a good, valid reason,” Kenma said. “Sorry about that, Kuroo.”

“You’re not bothering me, trust me. And I should be thanking you, since if you hadn’t rang my doorbell, I would’ve been in bed until who-knows-when.”

“I’m your personal alarm clock.”

“Sure, but you’d have to sleep over in order to do that.”

“Not so fast, Rooster Head,” Kenma laughed. 

“It was worth a shot,” Kuroo grinned into his cup. “Also, Rooster Head?”

“If you can call me Kitten, I can call you Rooster Head. It’s only fair,” Kenma reasoned. Kuroo opened his mouth to object, but found that Kenma’s argument was pretty valid. He closed his mouth again.

“Well, I think the paparazzi is gone,” Kenma slid off of the chair and looked at Kuroo. “I’ll get out of your messed-up hair now.”

Kuroo scrambled out of his own chair. “W-well, you’re not bothering me exactly. I mean, I don’t wanna force you to stay but I think we were having a good time and now I’m rambling. I'm really sorry-” Kuroo took a deep breath and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. He heard a soft chuckle and looked up at Kenma through his eyelashes.

Then it seemed like everything was going in slow motion. He saw Kenma shuffle toward him and tug him down by his shirt collar. He watched Kenma rise up on tiptoes and his face was approaching Kuroo’s face and suddenly Kuroo’s slow-as-fuck mind knew what was going to happen. 

And Kenma brushed his lips gently against Kuroo’s cheek. It lasted a lifetime but it was still faster than Kuroo could comprehend. He couldn’t move if he tried. 

Just like that, Kenma was slipping out of his door.

Kuroo blinked. The spot where Kenma’s kiss had landed tingled, burned, flamed. He felt the corners of his mouth lift up slowly, hopefully, and he dipped his head, grinning down at the rug. 

_ I’ll have to return the favor,  _ Kuroo thought in a giddy daze. Suddenly, his thoughts weren’t about trying to get Kenma to stay. They were only about when Kenma would come back to him. 


	13. Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have the "Be a Man" song from Mulan stuck in my head. *totally not humming it as I upload this chapter*
> 
> Not like any of you asked, but my playlist is so messed up. I got P!ATD, Hamilton, some random K-Pop songs (I'm in love with Hwasa), AJR, Anson Seabra, the actual fricking Banjo Beat, Dear Evan Hansen, anime openings (SASAGEYO *screams into arm), and Ashnikko. I'm a messed up human being. 
> 
> Also, I'VE REACHED SO MANY WORDS OH GOSSHHHHH THANK Y'ALL SO VERY MUCH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bursts in* AY YO YO YO YO YO WHAT TIME IS IT? SHOWTIMMMMEEEE *hamilfan here with another chapter, my dudes. Gosh, I really need a new name for y'all*

It turned out Kenma really couldn’t forget about his crush and a half. Kuroo took up most of his mind now, he was embarrassed to always have the messy-haired man in his head. When he went out grocery shopping, he was thinking about Kuroo. When he was taking care of Oikawa and making sure the brunette was eating and sleeping, he was thinking about Kuroo. Hell, when he was editing the video he had recorded a few days ago, he was thinking about Kuroo, which led to him almost deleting the video. After regaining his wits and saving the video safely, he decided that this had to stop. 

While he was trying to figure out what to do about his e-fucking-normous crush, Oikawa had gone into a sulk. Kenma had observed the other man first cry all his energy out, then lose the will to do absolutely anything, and finally start blaming everyone and everything.

Now, while Kenma was playing on his PSP on the couch, Oikawa was pacing in front of him, ranting and waving his hands around. Truth be told, Kenma had stopped listening to him fifteen minutes ago.

“It’s really not my fault! I did nothing wrong! Yeah, I’ve made mistakes, but I didn’t do anything this time!” Oikawa rambled. 

“Tooru, you’re convincing yourself and only yourself at this point,” Kenma said flatly, fiddling with the buttons on his handheld. 

“I’M NOT!” Oikawa shook his head, his ruffled hair getting even more messed up. Oikawa had stopped taking care of himself a few days ago, not caring about how he looked, what he wore, and what he did. If Kenma hadn’t known better, he would have been a bit scared. Oikawa collapsed onto the couch, crossing his arms and pouting like a child would.

“What good is moping around going to do, Tooru? You’ve hit rock bottom, there’s nowhere else to go but up,” Kenma sighed.

“You don’t understand! It’s harder than you think to just talk to him after that!”

Oikawa had also dropped the use of both the name and the nickname, referring to Iwaizumi as “him” or “you-know-who”. 

“I’m not forcing you to do anything,” Kenma sat up on the couch, setting down his PSP and turning to Oikawa. 

“Ughhhhhhhhh,” Oikawa groaned. A beat of silence. Then, “I miss him.”

Oikawa said this quietly, so quietly that Kenma had to lean in slightly to hear his voice. Oikawa uncrossed his arms and leaned the back of his head against the top of the couch. “I shouldn’t, I guess. But I do.”

“If you miss him, why don’t you just talk to him?” Kenma asked. He was slightly confused. There was a simple solution to Oikawa’s problem, and that solution was not slumping on a couch at home and reminiscing about all that had happened.

“It’s not that easy, Ken-chan,” Oikawa chuckled, a dry, dull sound. 

“As your friend, Tooru, I’ll be here for you,” Kenma said. “But as your roommate, I can’t keep swaddling and taking care of you. I have things to do, too.”

“I know,” Oikawa sighed, closing his eyes, a lock of brown hair falling into his face. “I’m sorry, Ken-chan.”

Kenma bit his lip, but didn’t say anything else. He just reached across the coffee table and picked up Oikawa’s phone. He looked at the glowing screen, the lock screen wallpaper that used to be the photo of Oikawa laughing hard, Iwaizumi smiling as the man kissed him on the cheek replaced with a generic phone-generated background. He thought of that Oikawa, the Oikawa who teased and joked and threw up peace signs and more-than-occasionally let out a snappy, snarky retort. 

Then he looked at the Oikawa next to him, the Oikawa who didn’t wear a smile on his face, the Oikawa who was quiet to the point where it was disturbing. 

Kenma needed to fix that. He, regrettably, missed that other Oikawa. So he handed Oikawa the phone. Oikawa blinked his eyes open and stared at the device that was now in his grip. 

“You’re the only one who can fix this, Tooru,” Kenma said firmly. Oikawa glanced up at him with wide eyes. Kenma sighed, and shuffled closer to Oikawa. Then he wrapped his arms around the taller man and rested his chin on Oikawa’s shoulder. 

Oikawa, after a frozen moment, brought his hands around Kenma and hugged back, tight. They stayed like that, in a close embrace on the couch, until Kenma felt Oikawa’s body shudder. He pulled away gently, trying to ignore the wet spots on his shoulder that indicated Oikawa had cried, and he looked into Oikawa’s glassy, chocolate-brown eyes. 

“Thanks, Ken-chan,” Oikawa smiled at him, something close to a beaming grin that only faltered slightly. 

“Of course, Tooru,” Kenma said. 

Oikawa got up off the couch, grasping his phone, and Kenma watched him disappear into the hallway. Then he heard the familiar click of the door shutting. Kenma decided that Oikawa would be in his room for about three hours, and he picked up his PSP and retreated into his own room.

Once he collapsed onto his bed, Momo leapt next to him, nestling next to his thigh. He glanced at his watch and cursed inwardly. He was going to be late for his convention. He sighed and got off the bed, Momo complaining loudly. Kenma needed to drive there which, after a quick calculation, would take about an hour and a half, to his disdain. He never liked conventions. Too many people, too many nosy questions.

And just like a character in a cartoon, a lightbulb pinged in his head. 

  
  
  


Kenma had been playing with his fingers ever since he left Kuroo’s apartment, twisting his shirt anxiously.  _ What was I thinking?  _

It was entirely an impulsive decision. He could still remember the soft fabric of Kuroo’s shirt as he pulled the taller man down and planted a soft kiss on his cheek-

_ Idiot! You’re such an idiot!  _

He chewed the inside of his cheek, deciding that he needed to take a break. Heart pounding, he slipped into a dark alleyway and leaned against the wall of the building, blinking slightly in the dimly lit area. He closed his eyes and grimaced. He had never been very good at reading people and their emotions, and he certainly didn’t know what the shocked look on Kuroo’s face meant.  _ Was it a good shock? A bad shock? Ohh, Kozume, you’ve ruined it now.  _

Uneven footsteps made him jolt out of his thoughts. He squinted into the dark of the alleyway, and his palms started to sweat as the footsteps became louder and louder. All of a sudden, a man in about his 30’s stumbled out of the inky-black. 

Kenma blinked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Judging by the way the man was walking and muttering to himself, he must have been drunk. Not to mention the sharp stench of alcohol that Kenma could smell even from where he was. He took a few cautious steps backward. The man hadn’t seen him yet, so he would just slink out of this alleyway and-

The man looked up. Kenma froze. They stared at each other, Kenma’s entire body on the verge of running away. But he couldn’t move. His feet were planted on the dirty ground of the alleyway, and he watched, helpless, as the man began staggering toward him.

“Whas’ a pretty face like yours doin’ out here, huh?” the man asked, his words slurring as he stopped in front of Kenma. Kenma swallowed. He needed to move, he needed to go,  _ now.  _ “Iss’ rude to not answer people, y’know?” the man tilted his head. 

Kenma was trapped. His back was now pressed against the wall and he leaned as far away as he could, trying not to gag at the strong smell of drink. He held his breath.

The man continued on, “C’mon, answer me. Pretty boys like you ain’t safe around here.”  _ No shit.  _ The man inched closer and closer to him, Kenma turning his face away.  _ Move, body. Hurry up and move!  _ “Looks like I’mma havta punish you,” the man drawled. Kenma felt a shock of terror run down his spine. Jaggedly, the man ran a hand down Kenma’s face, grabbing his chin and tilting his head toward him. Kenma squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pull away, but the man’s grip on his face just tightened. 

“S-stop,” Kenma whispered, his voice barely above a mumble. 

“Whass that?” the man’s face broke into a crooked, twisted smile. 

“He told you to stop,” a voice said. A voice that Kenma knew. Kenma’s eyes flew open and he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Kuroo Tetsurou standing in the mouth of the alleyway. Kenma saw Kuroo’s fists clench, and he felt a tingle of relief.  _ Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo. _

“Yeah? Too bad, ‘cause whatcha gonna do ‘bout it?” the man snarled. Kenma squirmed in the man’s grasp. 

Then, faster than he could comprehend, Kuroo was there, and a fist came flying at the man’s face. Kenma jumped at the sound of the sharp THWACK and the man crumpled to the ground, landing in a heap on the dirty road of the alleyway. Kenma sucked in a harsh, ragged breath. 

He felt two strong hands grab him by the shoulders and turn him around. He looked up, trembling, to see Kuroo. His face was broken into something unfathomable, something dangerous as he glared down at the man, who was now stirring.

“Don’t you  _ ever  _ fucking touch him,” Kuroo growled, his voice low and dripping with venom. He promptly took Kenma by the hand and stalked out of the alleyway. Kenma stumbled along, glancing from their entwined hands to Kuroo’s face, which was hard as stone. 

Suddenly, Kuroo stopped. Kenma, swallowing, watched him. 

Then Kuroo turned to him and his smoldering expression dropped into one of fret. 

“Oh god, are you okay? Did he hurt you? Are you hurt? Shit, that must have been terrifying for you- I’m so sorry I didn’t get there sooner, are you okay-”

Kenma cut him off. “Y-yes, I’m okay. No, he didn’t hurt me. No, I’m not hurt. Just a bit… shaken. It was terrifying, th-thank you for coming to help me. I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t. I’m sorry, I-I should have moved, or ran, I couldn’t move my body-”

This time, he was the one being interrupted. 

Kuroo looped two strong arms around his waist and pulled him to his chest. Unlike the one before, this hug was tight, it was needy. As Kenma breathed in the scent of Kuroo’s hoodie, he felt safe, as long as Kuroo held him like this, he was going to be okay.

“How’d you find me, anyway?” Kenma mumbled into Kuroo’s clothes.

“You said people followed you,” Kuroo answered, “so I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“Oh,” was all Kenma could say. Looks like there was more to Kuroo’s head than just a disturbing mop of hair.

Kuroo pulled away after a minute. Kenma suddenly felt cold, even though the weather was perfect. He shivered, then sneezed.

And Kuroo stared at him.

Kenma rubbed his nose and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear before he realized that Kuroo was looking at him with big eyes.

“What?” he asked with uncertainty.

“Holy shit,” Kuroo whispered in awe. “You have the kitten sneeze.”

“What?” Kenma repeated, furrowing his eyebrows.

“The kitten sneeze,” Kuroo said again. “Fuck it, I should’ve gotten a video.”

“You’re scaring me, Kuroo,” Kenma squinted his eyes.

“Someday. Someday, I’ll get that video,” Kuroo sighed dramatically. “Wanna go back to mine?”

“I’d like that.”

“Alright,” Kuroo said, and promptly took Kenma’s hand again. Kenma almost tripped. Kuroo didn’t look back at him, and Kenma stared down at their hands, but they most likely had matching blushes. 

Kenma’s hand was enveloped in Kuroo’s much bigger one. He decided that this would not do, so he took a few longer strides and adjusted their hands so that their fingers laced. Kuroo squeezed his hand gently, and Kenma had to look away to stop grinning like an idiot.

They walked that way, hands swinging between them and Kenma’s body pressed up against Kuroo’s, all the way back to Kuroo’s apartment.


	14. Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deep and inspirational shit
> 
> *inhale* so i just figured out what Kenma's real channel name is and I am fucking mortified that I didn't know this sooner and now it's too late to change it shittttttttttttt *screams into pillow* IM GOING TO GO DIE NOW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, I'm so sorry for not posting for so long! *ugly sobbing* I'm breaking down here. If I disappointed any of you, I'll try and post on a better regimen now! 
> 
> Also, one of my good friends drew fanart for one of the chapters and I'll put it in the story as soon as it's finished! Y'all are gonna love it, the artist is soo gooodddd

“So you decided to follow me?” Kenma asked, curled up on the couch and fiddling with his fingers.

“Mhm,” Kuroo nodded. “Had a feeling that something bad was going to happen to you.”

“Oh,” Kenma said. He looked down. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Kuroo questioned, turning to face Kenma. 

“Yeah. I…” the man’s crooked smile flashed in Kenma’s mind, and his heart skipped a beat. “I’ll get over it.”

“No,” Kuroo said, so sternly that Kenma looked up at him. Kuroo scooted closer on the couch and wrapped an arm around him. Again, Kenma felt like his heart skipped a beat, but this time, in a way that made his heart feel like it was going to sprout wings and fly away.  _ Keep it up, Kuroo, and I’ll die of cardiac arrest.  _ “Fuck, you say it like it’s normal, like an everyday thing.”

Kuroo froze, then looked down at him. “Wait. Is it an everyday thing?”

Kenma shook his head rapidly. “Just this once. And I hope it stays that way.”

“I do, too. I… I left the apartment because I really care about you, kitten,” Kuroo smiled, almost shyly. 

Kenma swallowed. “Th-thanks, I guess.”

Kuroo stared down at him, then rubbed his neck and took his arm away quickly. “I made it awkward, didn’t I?”

“A bit,” Kenma mumbled. He refused to look at Kuroo, instead gazing toward the kitchen. His eyes caught on one very particular object. “You still have the rose?”

Kuroo turned his head and followed Kenma’s pointed finger to the flower. “Oh- yeah! I kinda wanna keep it alive as long as possible, even though it’s gonna pass away soon.”

“You could just say die.”

Kuroo frowned, and tilted his head. “A flower has a life, too. Besides, when it passes away, I guess it passes into a better world than this one.” Kenma mulled these words over in his head. 

“Kuroo Tetsurou, wise philosopher,” Kenma mused. Kuroo snickered. 

“Anyway…” Kenma bit his lip. “Why exactly am I being held hostage?” 

He’d meant it as a joke, but Kuroo still paled. 

“W-wait! I’m not keeping you as a prisoner or some shit! I-I just thought that it’d be safer for you to stay? Or something- I mean, you’re free to go, if you want! Bu-but I don’t think it’s really that safe for you anymore?” Kuroo let out a stream of colorful curses and buried his reddened face in his hands. 

Kenma had to stifle a bout of laughter. Kuroo wanted him to stay, apparently. And who was he to object?

“Okay,” Kenma said. Kuroo jolted at the feeling of Kenma’s hand slipping into his. He blinked twice and stared at Kenma. The latter felt his confidence diminish at the sight of Kuroo gazing at him so fixedly. “Um. I can stay?” 

Kuroo’s jaw dropped. Kenma fidgeted slightly, but kept his hand firmly placed within Kuroo’s. Kuroo shook himself back into reality and Kenma watched his Adam’s apple bob nervously.

“So,” Kuroo mumbled to his lap. “What do you wanna do?”

“Anything you wanna do,” Kenma said. And then he regretted that immediately, because Kuroo’s head snapped up and he eyed Kenma with a calculating glint in his eye. “Hold your horses, you horny rooster,” Kenma swallowed. “Don’t try anything.”

Kuroo held his gaze with that infuriatingly attractive gleam in his eye. Kenma felt his heart stutter out of time and he felt his breathing hitch. Then Kuroo collapsed into laughter. Kenma watched the other man roll around in hysterics and started giggling, too. 

“Ah, man. Don’t worry, I’ll always ask for consent first. ‘Cause,” Kuroo wiggled his eyebrows. “Consent is sexy.”

Kenma groaned and whacked Kuroo with a couch pillow, his face flaming. Kuroo squawked in indignation and snatched up his own pillow, jumping off of the couch and assuming a battle stance. Kenma slid off the couch and stood on the other side of the coffee table.

“Finally, a worthy opponent. Our battle will be legendary,” Kuroo declared in a horrible accent. 

“Indeed it will,” Kenma laughed. Then their fight began with Kuroo tripping over the coffee table. 

  
  


“I,” Kuroo panted, collapsing onto the ground. “I won that one.”

Kenma drifted down to the carpet as well, breathing hard. “Liar.”

“You cheated, kitten.”

“I won fair and square.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Well, wanna go again? We’ll settle it.”

“Kuroo, we’ve settled this at least five times and I’ve won every time.”

“Not fairrrr,” Kuroo whined, rolling over on the carpet.   
“It is, though,” Kenma reasoned. Kuroo let out an enormous sigh from next to him on the ground. 

Then he pounced on top of Kenma and started tickling him. Immediately, Kenma burst into laughter, trying feebly to push Kuroo off of him and failing miserably. “S-stop!” Kenma gasped between giggles. 

“Never!” Kuroo smirked. “Who won now, huh, kitten?”

“M-me,” Kenma managed to wheeze out. Kuroo moved his hands to Kenma’s sides and started tickling him, causing Kenma to start squirming with laughter once again. “I s-surrender!” Kenma felt tears run down his face from laughing so hard.

“Boom,” Kuroo nodded in satisfaction. “I win.”

Kenma cracked his eyes open, reaching a hand up to wipe the tears, then stilled. They were in… quite the position. Kenma was lying down on the carpet, his back on the ground. And Kuroo was straddling him, his hands still placed on Kenma’s sides. 

Kenma sucked in a harsh breath. Kuroo fluttered a gentle hand down his side, and Kenma felt his skin tingle at his touch, even through his dress shirt. He watched Kuroo lick his lips, and he gulped. 

“Uh- K-Kuroo?” Kenma stuttered, his body trembling slightly. Kuroo seemed to come to his senses, because he looked down at Kenma and promptly jumped off of him. Kenma released a breath that he didn’t know he’d been holding. He pushed himself off of the ground and dusted his shirt off, refusing to look at Kuroo, who was now taking extreme interest in his T.V. 

“Sorry about that,” Kuroo mumbled. 

“You’re okay,” Kenma answered honestly. 

“Um, so,” Kuroo turned back to him, his ears red. “Um- I feel like you wanna leave now, I made it really, really awkward.”

“No,” Kenma blurted.

“No?”

“Uh. As in… yeah, you made it awkward.” Kuroo ducked his head sheepishly. “But I don’t want to leave. If… that’s okay?”

“Really?” Kuroo seemed way too shocked. Kenma raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah?”

“Oh,” Kuroo looked down. “I just… tend to move fast. Really fast.”

“Ah,” Kenma nodded. “So you hook up with people rather than get in a relationship with them.”

He snickered into his hand when he saw Kuroo choke and run his hands through his hair, ruffling it even more.

“Th-That’s not- wait. Shit, you’re right. BUT IT’S NOT LIKE YOU’RE A HOOKUP OR ANYTHING, LIKE- I THINK I ACTUALLY LIKE YOU AND-” Kuroo stopped.

Kenma’s eyes widened. “You like me?”

Kuroo opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he swallowed and opened his mouth again, his cheeks dusted with a light pink.  _ Cute,  _ Kenma thought vaguely. 

“Sure,” Kuroo shrugged, clearly trying to play it off cool. “I mean, I guess it was pretty obvious. Usually when people ask you on a date, they li-like you, right?”

Kenma blinked. “Oh. Um. I-I like you, too then.”

Kuroo stared at Kenma. Kenma stared at Kuroo. Amber looked into gold and even though Kenma’s face was probably a tomato by now, he didn’t look down. It felt nice to finally say it out loud, the words were foreign to his mouth but he liked the way they felt. 

“Yeah,” Kenma said, still gazing at Kuroo. “I like you.”

Kuroo groaned, throwing himself onto the couch and burying his face into his knees, which he pulled up to his chest. “Look what you did to me.”

Kenma felt his mouth curl into a small smile when he saw the other man looking so small, peeking at Kenma through his fingers. 

“I mean, I did tell the truth,” Kenma said nonchalantly. More groans and some embarrassed chuckles came from Kuroo.

“But I mean,” Kuroo said, after the red on his face had slightly faded away, “I do always move fast. Not just in relationships either. And whatever it is that we are, I don’t really wanna rush it.”

“Hm,” Kenma hummed in agreement, sinking down next to Kuroo. “I don’t know how to do… this… kind of thing. I’m not sure what we are, either.”

“So it looks like it’s new for both of us,” Kuroo thought aloud. 

“I guess,” Kenma said. 

Kuroo leaned sideways and dropped his head into Kenma’s lap. Kenma looked down at the man, who stared up at the ceiling.

“It’ll be an adventure, then,” Kenma concluded. Kuroo’s eyes slid toward him. “You like adventures, don’t you?”

Kuroo’s eyes fluttered shut, and Kenma marveled at how peaceful he looked. Kuroo was definitely not the flustered, blushing mess he’d been earlier. Kenma followed the cut of his jawline, his graceful curve of his eye, his flawless skin. Then, Kenma felt his hand come up and gently brush the hair over Kuroo’s face. Kuroo didn’t open his eyes, but Kenma could see the small curve of his lips turn up. 

Kenma fiddled with an unruly lock of Kuroo’s hair and twirled it around his finger. Kuroo’s peace seemed to spread to him, because his thoughts started drifting to what Oikawa would call “deep and inspirational shit”. 

_ Whatever you and I are, Kuroo,  _ Kenma thought.  _ It’ll bloom into something beautiful, because it’s only just budding.  _

  
  
  



	15. Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more soft-ish flufferdoodles! Also, I've been watching chonky seal videos and now I love seals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deep breath you guys im so sorry for not updating for such a long time if i disappointed any of you please do not hesitate to go down in the comments and give me a virtual slap cuz i deserve it
> 
> *deeeeeeeep breath* anyway, enjoy this new chapter! By the way, I reread In Another Life just to hurt myself even more and I posted this through tears if there are typos blame the tears.

Kuroo couldn’t sleep. Not because of a nightmare. Not because of his horny thoughts. No, it was because right outside, in his living room, curled up under a blanket, was Kenma fucking Kozume. And Kuroo regretted ever meeting Kenma because  _ holy shit Kenma was sleeping outside. In his apartment.  _

Kuroo rolled over onto his stomach, grabbed two pillows, and smashed them on either side of his head, burying his face into the sheets. 

He should’ve been happy. He  _ was  _ happy. But the fact that he was hyperventilating over his crush sleeping on his couch only showed how far down the hole of Kenma obsessions he was in.

Kuroo popped his head out from his pillows and flung an arm over the edge of the bed as he sprawled out on his back, kicking the covers away while he was at it. He stared up at the ceiling blankly and tried not to look at the door or think about who was beyond it. 

He lasted five seconds. Then his thoughts turned back over to Kenma and some very wrong ones. 

Kuroo felt like a bottle of bubbling chemicals, with the lid on. He wanted to shout, scream, break something but he  _ couldn’t.  _ All his emotions and his feelings were swirling around inside him and going faster and faster and  _ faster and he wanted to burst.  _

He wasn’t very in control of himself, seeing as he didn’t even know what this feeling inside him was. The worst part was that it was all Kenma’s fault.  _ What a bad kitten.  _

Kenma, Kenma, Kenma. Kenma this, Kenma that, if Kenma so much as hopped up and down, Kuroo would have exploded from a cuteness overload. Only Kenma. It could only ever be him. 

_ You’re fucked, Tetsurou.  _

_ He’s right outside. He wouldn’t mind.  _

_ It’d be so easy to just cradle him in your arms, hug him to your chest like you did on the sidewalk. _

_ Maybe do something even more than cradling- _

Kuroo groaned, then slapped a hand over his mouth. Kenma had felt so right when Kuroo hugged him, like he was the missing piece that Kuroo never knew he had. They fit together perfectly, to him at least, and he wasn’t the tiniest bit ashamed to say that. 

And if Kenma Kozume was any other person, Kuroo would have already fucked the living hell out of them. 

There was just  _ something  _ about Kenma. His golden eyes that squeezed shut when he laughed hard. His chin-length, bleached-blonde hair that sometimes hid his cute little face when he ducked his head. His tiny figure, with his tiny hands that slotted perfectly into Kuroo’s larger ones. His soft snorts that occurred when he tried to stifle his giggles. Kuroo liked his physical traits, but there was something inside Kenma that pushed him over the edge and into the pit of absolute love. 

Kenma was made up of layers and layers, he was a treasure box within a treasure box. Kuroo didn’t want to rush anything, but he wanted to get somewhere too. Did that make sense? No, he thought not. 

Kuroo let out a sigh and heaved himself up from the bed. He glanced at the door and then at the clock. It was about two in the morning. 

_You inconsiderate piece of shit- HE’S SLEEPING!_ _  
_ _Now or never, Tetsurou._

_ Don’t you fucking dare! _

_ Do it! _

_ Don’t do it!  _

Kuroo did it. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and tiptoed to the door. He hesitated, pressing an ear to the wood before taking a deep breath and quietly turning the doorknob and pushing it open. 

Heart racing, he continued tiptoeing until he reached the living room. He pressed his back against the wall, head pounding. 

Then Kuroo peeked out from the corner of the wall.

“Hi.”

Kuroo yelped, then knocked his foot against the wall. Wincing, he hopped up and down on one foot as he gaped at Kenma, who was clearly awake. When the throbbing pain finally receded, he got a good look at the other man. 

Kenma was staring at him with big eyes, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders until only his head was poking out. He was sitting, not lying down on the couch and he looked oh-so small. 

His hair was in a messy ponytail, the hair at the side of his head flattened down. Kuroo concluded that Kenma  _ had  _ gone to sleep but had woken up. The reason why was all in his face. He could tell, even without any light, that Kenma’s eyes were red and puffy. 

“Kenma?” Kuroo asked tentatively, shifting carefully on his feet.

“Yeah?” Kenma’s voice was choked and thick, and Kuroo’s instincts were all screaming at him to go hug him, to go comfort him. 

But Kuroo kept standing.

“Are you… okay?” Kuroo asked lamely.  _ Of course he’s not okay, lameass! Go sit down next to him! _

“Yeah,” Kenma sniffed. “You can go back to sleep, sorry for waking you up.”

Now Kuroo was moving, lurching forward as if controlled by someone and maneuvering his way in front of the couch. He sank down next to the ball of blankets that Kenma was in. 

“What happened?” he asked gently. Kenma didn’t answer. The air was only filled with the sounds of his soft hiccups and the occasional shifting. “Kenma?”

“I had a nightmare,” Kenma blurted out. He hunched into his blankets and Kuroo couldn’t help but see how vulnerable, how unprotected Kenma was. Kuroo extended an arm and wrapped it around the bundle of blankets, tugging it and Kenma into his side. 

“What kind of nightmare?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“The guy,” Kenma said simply. Kuroo understood, and he couldn’t help but feel his anger rise.  _ That motherfucker. Harassing Kenma like that, touching him against his will.  _

“You had a nightmare about him?” Kuroo said between gritted teeth. He felt Kenma shudder and lean a millimeter away from him. He cursed himself and tried to calm himself down, for Kenma’s sake. Because he totally would storm outside, find that bitch, and beat the shit out of him again. “Sorry,” Kuroo murmured. 

Kenma relaxed and gently placed his head against Kuroo’s side. “I’m sorry for bothering you with my… own problems.” It came out as a hoarse whisper. 

“Don’t apologize. I’m right here, I’ll help you,” Kuroo assured in a hushed voice, pulling Kenma closer to him.

“How can you help me?” The words were sharp, accusing, shards of glass trying to tear at him. Kuroo took in a deep breath.

“Maybe I can’t,” he answered honestly. 

“Then why aren’t you telling me to leave? Just kick me out. Me and my issues will leave you,” Kenma snapped, yanking himself out from Kuroo’s side-hug. Kuroo swallowed. This was dangerous territory, and he couldn’t get angry. Not while Kenma’s face was still showing signs of tears. 

“I want to take care of you,” Kuroo said slowly.

“I don’t want to be taken care of,” Kenma hissed. “Taking care of me will only hurt both of us.”

“Why do you think that?” Kuroo asked. 

“I can’t do a relationship! You let me in your house, save me, treat me like some special thing, while I can’t do anything for you!” Kenma snarled. “I can’t even take care of myself, as I showed so fucking obviously today.”

Suddenly, Kenma’s anger seemed to sink out of him as he deflated back into his blankets. Kuroo caught a glimpse of wetness at the brim of Kenma’s eyes. Slowly, cautiously, Kuroo reached a hand back out and gently placed it around Kenma, this time pulling himself closer to Kenma instead of pulling Kenma to him. Kenma didn’t pull away, so Kuroo deemed it safe to rest his head on top of his. 

“You don’t need to do anything for me,” Kuroo whispered. “You really don’t.”

“Whatever we are will only be one-sided,” Kenma mumbled dully.

“Don’t say that,” Kuroo said, both firm and gentle. “You being here is already enough for me. You said you liked me back. I’m going to trust you.”

“Why would you?” Kenma asked, his voice cracking.

Kuroo thought this through for a moment. “I get the feeling that you’re not the one to lie straight to my face.” Kenma’s body let out a shudder, and Kuroo squeezed the bundle of blankets. “If…” Kuroo swallowed. “If it makes you feel better, you can come sleep with me?”

He didn’t loosen his hold on Kenma and he kept looking at the other man’s face, watching for a sign, anything. Kuroo couldn’t make a single thing out of the expression. “If you want,” Kuroo added. 

“Are you sure?” Kenma asked slowly.

“Yeah,” Kuroo answered without hesitation. Fuck, he must have seemed eager. 

“Okay,” Kenma nodded. 

Kuroo had to do a double take in order for it to sink in.  _ Keep your cool, Tetsurou. You’re doing this to comfort him.  _

“Alright,” Kuroo nodded back, swallowing. He rose up from the couch and turned to the bundle of blankets. Kenma blinked up at him curiously and wiggled slightly, freeing himself from his cloth ball. Kuroo reached into the blankets and felt for Kenma’s legs before lifting Kenma up, one hand on his back and one hand under his knees. Kenma automatically wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s neck and looked down, his face a clear shade of pink even in the lack of light. Of course, Kuroo wasn’t any different. 

Kuroo carried Kenma into his room and stopped at the edge of the room, lowering the other down onto the mattress slowly. Kenma curled up on the bed, knees tucked up to his chest and his face turned away. Kuroo walked around the bed and got in from the other side, tugging the covers over them both. Kenma immediately shuffled around until his back was to Kuroo. 

_ Not happening. _

Kuroo scooted over until his arms reached around Kenma’s chest and he tucked his face into the nape of Kenma’s neck, his knees slotted perfectly against the back of Kenma’s.  _ So now you’re spooning him. Smooth, Tetsurou. _

Kenma froze. 

He stiffened for such a seemingly long moment that Kuroo almost pulled away, his face flaming, but then Kuroo felt two small hands flutter over his, and fingers intertwined with his own. 

Kuroo was glad that Kenma couldn’t see his mile-wide grin, which was probably such a bright beam that the entire complex would wake up because of it.

They fell asleep together that way, Kuroo hugging Kenma from behind and Kenma holding his hand, both of them tucked up like petals to an unbloomed flower.


	16. Fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ay yo, guys! I'm back! With *disco dances* a new chapter! Enjoy this little banter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna shout out so many people that I don't know where to start. Uh- okay. 
> 
> Togas_Knife, do your homework! Also, AAAAA I FUCKING LOVE THEM TOO  
> iwaizoomin, YOU KEEP COMMENTING AND I LOVE IT AAAAAAAAAAAA YOU'RE SUCH A SWEET PERSON  
> WriterNArtist, Y'all. This absolute piece of royalty is drawing and posting on Insta about the fic and I'm exploding right now because they are soooo goooooood

Kuroo woke up cold and alone. He cracked his eyes open and suddenly realized just how chilly it was. He rolled onto his side and stared at the empty half of the bed that Kenma and him had curled up together on. That side of the bed was neatly made, the covers tucked securely over the edges of the bed and the pillows plumped. 

And not a single sign that Kenma Kozume had ever been there. No physical proof that they had fallen asleep, warm and entwined and cozy. Of course, that was perfectly fine by Kuroo, it wasn’t like he was going to forget that moment… ever. But he was slightly disappointed that Kenma couldn’t have stayed just a bit longer. 

His eyes fell onto a piece of paper, set on the pillow. He plucked it up and unfolded it to reveal what seemed to be Kenma’s handwriting. 

I’m going home. Don’t cry for me, Rooster. I’ll text you when I get back. I woke up at around 7:00 and it takes twenty minutes for me to get home. 

The note was very… businesslike. Kuroo frowned, but then he noticed something at the bottom of the page. 

♡ -K.K.

Kuroo blinked at the little heart, drawn carefully onto the sheet of paper. He hugged the note to his chest and smiled, closing his eyes. 

  
  


Kenma got home safe. That was a relief, because the entire time he was walking, his head was low and his arms were crossed. Several times, he felt like he was being watched, so he had snuck a couple glances over his shoulder to reveal… absolutely no one. Kenma was just being paranoid now. 

He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding in when his hand touched the doorknob to his apartment. 

Then he froze. 

Fuck.

Oikawa. 

He had left Oikawa alone, sad, depressed, and possibly sobbing his eyes out. Maybe that phone call had been good. Or it could have been bad. And it was going to be his fault if he found Oikawa shivering, lonely and heartbroken once more. 

Kenma, heart practically thumping out of his chest, pushed open the door, kicked off his shoes, and shut the door behind him. He skidded into the living room. No Oikawa. He raced to Oikawa’s bedroom and saw that the door was shut. Okay, maybe Oikawa was in there.  _ In there doing what? _

Kenma knocked rapidly on the door, his foot tapping up and down nervously. He heard footsteps arriving toward the door, and his heart slowed down just a bit. 

The door opened and revealed…

Iwaizumi. Kenma blinked. Iwaizumi Hajime, clad in khaki pants and a button down shirt. Iwaizumi looked down at him. Kenma stared back. Iwaizumi cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets, an apologetic look in his eyes. 

“Look, Kenma-san, I wanna-”

Kenma held up a hand. Iwaizumi shut up. “It’s okay,” Kenma said truthfully. “Just take care of him.”

Iwaizumi nodded, taking in a deep breath and sending Kenma a small grin. Kenma smiled back. Then their little moment was ruined by the human tornado, Oikawa Tooru.

“KEN-CHAN!” Oikawa sang, draping his arms around Iwaizumi’s shoulders. Iwaizumi didn’t knock him off like he would normally. Instead, he wrapped a hand around Oikawa’s waist and pulled him close. 

The dark circles under Oikawa’s eyes had disappeared, there was no redness nor puffiness in his face. He was dressed smartly and properly and he was wearing a bright, blinding smile. 

And he was happy again, Kenma could tell. Oikawa may be able to change moods fast, but around Iwaizumi, he didn’t wear a poisonous, fake smirk. It was all real and genuine. Kenma felt his heart sigh in relief at the sight of them both in a tight embrace. 

“Tooru,” Kenma said. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, yeah!” Oikawa waved dismissively. Iwaizumi sent him a confused look, and Kenma concluded that Oikawa must not have told him that in the time without him, he had been a disaster. “I’m great now, thanks to Iwa-chan and Ken-chan!”

Ah. The nickname was back. Kenma decided that Oikawa was truly back to normal now. 

“Excellent,” Kenma nodded. Oikawa’s smile grew, and he planted a small kiss on Iwaizumi’s cheek. Iwaizumi bit his lip and turned away, his face slowly reddening. While Iwaizumi was looking away, Oikawa glanced at Kenma. Kenma held his gaze and dipped his head. Oikawa grinned at him softly and winked at him. Kenma rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, Iwa-chan and I are going to leave today! How’s your little Kuroo going? You didn’t come home last night~” Oikawa raised his eyebrows. Kenma scoffed, his ears burning. Iwaizumi had a knowing smirk on his face and Kenma regretted ever forgiving him. 

“It was nothing,” Kenma muttered.

“Mm?” Oikawa pursed his lips. “I don’t think so, Ken-chan! Tell me, tell me!”

“Oikawa, don’t push him,” Iwaizumi scolded. Oikawa pouted at him before turning back to Kenma. 

“Spill the tea!” Oikawa chirped. 

“Look, it was nothing. I got… into a situation in an alleyway and Kuroo helped me, we went back to his apartment and I…” Kenma closed his mouth, his face flushing. He had slept over at Kuroo’s. And he liked it. Oikawa was going to milk the shit out of this. 

“And you…?” Oikawa prompted. 

“I slept at his place,” Kenma mumbled. 

“YOU DID?” Oikawa shrieked, causing Iwaizumi to wince. 

“Shut up, Tooru! I didn’t get laid or anything!” Kenma snapped, his face turning a deeper shade of red.

“Ooooh, Ken-chan, you’re deep into this now!” Oikawa crowed, bouncing up and down. 

“I’m not!” Kenma insisted. “I just slept over, like what friends do!”

“Tell me, you slept in the same bed as him, didn’t you!” It wasn’t a question. Oikawa probably knew every single thing that had happened and then some.

“Fine,” Kenma huffed. “I slept in his bed.”

“And then what?” Oikawa asked eagerly.

“Tooru, stop it, look at him. You’re embarrassing him,” Iwaizumi tsk-ed. 

“Look, I went to his house after the little incident and we held hands and he made me laugh and I felt happy and he gave me an apple and I fell asleep on the couch and he went to his bed but I had a nightmare about the thing and then I was crying like a little bitch and he carried me to his room and he spooned me and-” Kenma took a deep breath. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi blinked. 

“Damn,” Iwaizumi said. Damn was right. 

“You cried?” Oikawa asked, his face now one of concern.

“Yeah,” Kenma muttered. “Yeah, and he made me… stop crying. Or whatever. He made me feel better, okay?”

“Awww,” Oikawa cooed. “That’s cute, you two are cute!”

“You need to shut up,” Kenma sighed, the words having no effect on Oikawa.

“Tooru’s right,” Iwaizumi nodded. “You two seem cute.”

“HEY!” Oikawa complained. “You can’t call me Tooru! You can only call me Trashykawa or Shittykawa!”

“What?” Iwaizumi squinted at him.

“I call you Iwa-chan and you call me some variation of my name, showing how stupid you are to resort to these insults!”

Iwaizumi flicked Oikawa in the forehead and Oikawa sputtered.

“You’re the only stupid one, Shittykawa!”  
“There! That’s better!” Oikawa nodded vigorously. Kenma sighed. Yeah. It was back to normal now. 

Well, not really. It was only ever going to be normal if he walked in on them having sex, or if he heard their lewd noises through the wall. That would be normal. Unwanted. But normal. 

Then Kenma remembered that he had to text Kuroo. Frantically, he yanked out his phone and tapped out a message.

7:30

Kenma

Hey, rooster. I’m back so you don’t need to worry or cry about me anymore.

The response was almost immediate.

7:30

Kenma

Hey, rooster. I’m back so you don’t need to worry or cry about me anymore.

Kuroo

Oh my turnips oh thank god youre safe i was like hyperventilating that you got jumped again

Kenma

You wish. Don’t worry I have you to protect me if that happens

Kuroo

Sounds about right im your knight in shining armor, kitten! 😘

Kenma

Stop that

Kuroo

Uhhhh nahhhhhh

Kenma

>:(

Kuroo

😏

Kenma couldn’t help but smile back down at the screen, staring at the little kissing emoji. He felt something inside him bubble up, causing his insides to do flips. 

“Uh- Ken-chan?” Oikawa’s voice snapped him out of it. Automatically, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and realized both Iwaizumi and Oikawa were grinning at him.

“What?” Kenma demanded.

“You were texting him, weren’t you?” Oikawa sing-songed.

“So what if I was?” Kenma challenged.

“You don’t ever smile like that,” Oikawa grinned devilishly. “I’m gonna go see who exactly is making Ken-chan so happy. Kuroo Tetsurou, owner of Life in Bloom. Maybe I’ll pay him a visit.”

Kenma gaped. Then he closed his mouth and looked at Iwaizumi for help. Iwaizumi shook his head solemnly.  _ So both of them wanna meet Kuroo.  _

“Don’t,” Kenma said.

“Too late!” Oikawa laughed. 

_ Fuck fuck fuckity fuck to the fucking power of fuck.  _


	17. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of ships my guys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh is that *squints* IS THAT HINATA? AND MAYBE A LITTLE HINT TO HIS LOVER?
> 
> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Kuroo was working today, and Yamaguchi had once again come to visit him and supervise him, even though Kuroo  _ was  _ technically the boss. And surprise, surprise. Yamaguchi had brought his not-boyfriend. 

“Well, well,” Kuroo drawled. “Look who’s back.”

“You think I’m here for you?” Tsukishima scoffed, pushing up his glasses.

“No, but I know  _ exactly  _ why you’re here in the first place! Here to buy some roses for a special someone, maybe?” Kuroo smirked at the way Tsukishima’s eyes glanced over at Yamaguchi.

“Don’t bully Tsukki, Kuroo,” Yamaguchi reprimanded. 

“Oooh, defending the boyfriend, are we?” Kuroo laughed.

Yamaguchi let out a cry of indignation and smacked him. Kuroo gave a little yank on his antenna. Yamaguchi flicked his forehead in retaliation.

“Uh-” a voice broke them out of their play fight. 

Kuroo and Yamaguchi both looked toward the entrance to see a young man, shifting uncomfortably. He had shockingly bright orange hair, tousled in all directions. He blinked at them. 

“Oh, hello!” Yamaguchi greeted. “Welcome to Life in Bloom, how can we help you?”

Kuroo saw Tsukishima slink into the back room out of the corner of his eye. Yamaguchi had made a deal with him that Tsukishima would have to resort to the supply room every time a customer came in, due to the fact that Tsukishima would constantly scare people away. Tsukishima flashed a middle finger at Kuroo and Kuroo stuck one up right back before turning toward the new man. 

“Um. I wanna get an arrangement for a confession?” the customer said- asked- shyly. 

“Oooh!” Yamaguchi’s antenna perked up. “A confession?”

The man looked down, a small grin painted across his face. “Yeah. I like this one guy, and I decided this is the best way to tell him.” The man frowned suddenly. “Unless I got him a carton of milk.”

Yamaguchi snorted, but didn’t push any further. Instead, he slipped past Kuroo and tilted his head at the man before he walked into the supply room. Kuroo took this as a hint to occupy the cashier. 

“So,” Kuroo smirked. “In love, huh?”

“Wh-what?” the man squeaked, his eyes widening. “N-no! Just- I’ve liked him for a long time now?”

“That, my friend, is called love,” Kuroo said knowingly. “What’s your name?”  
“Oh! Hinata- Hinata Shoyo!”

“Cool,” Kuroo nodded. “I’m Kuroo, I’m the owner of this place.”

“Oh, I see,” Hinata looked around the shop curiously. 

“Our little friend back there was Yamaguchi,” Kuroo continued. “And the salty beanpole with glasses was Tsukishima.”

“He didn’t look friendly,” Hinata said bluntly.

“Oh, he’s not. Except to Yamaguchi,” Kuroo smirked. Hinata’s eyebrows raised when rushed footsteps came behind Kuroo. Kuroo swiveled around to see a flushed Yamaguchi, his hair ruffled and his antenna spazzed and surprised. His cheeks were pink and he was out of breath, and his obviously kissed-pink lips showed that Tsukishima had definitely made a move in the supply room.  _ You got balls, Tsukki-dude,  _ Kuroo marveled. 

“Oh, here you go!” Yamaguchi panted, trying to even out his breathing as he held out a delicate arrangement of red and white roses, and a few deep red carnations. Hinata took it cautiously and fished around in his pocket, pulling out a wallet. Kuroo rang him up and the orange-haired man was gone, the bouquet of flowers comically blocking most of his face. 

Kuroo then turned to Yamaguchi slowly. He wasn’t about to let the man escape this quite yet.

“So,” Kuroo said, smirking. 

Yamaguchi glared up at him, his blush taking most of the intensity away. 

“What?” Yamaguchi demanded. Unfortunately, at that moment, Tsukishima chose to saunter out of the supply room, looking very smug despite his also prominent flush. His lips were kissed red too, and his glasses were slightly crooked. Tsukishima straightened them and stopped next to Yamaguchi. He looked down. 

“I’ll see you later, Yamaguchi,” he said. Kuroo had to marvel at the way Tsukishima could change from a salty bitch to this gentle, kindhearted man. 

“Eep,” Yamaguchi answered, not looking at him, instead focused on the tiled floor. 

“Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima said. 

Possibly by reflex, Yamaguchi looked up. Tsukishima bent down a little and brushed his lips across Yamaguchi’s freckled and blushed cheek. Then he straightened up and strode out of Life in Bloom.

Yamaguchi stared after him, raising a hand to his face and touching the place where Tsukishima had kissed him. 

“Damn,” Kuroo whistled. 

“Uh huh,” Yamaguchi whispered. 

Kuroo couldn’t help but smile at seeing how lovestruck his friend was. It had taken about twenty years, but at least something was coming together in their relationship. 

“What does he mean he’ll see you later?” Kuroo teased suggestively. 

Just like that, Yamaguchi snapped out of it and smacked him on the arm. 

“Be quiet!” the green-haired man scolded. 

“Aw man, you guys are so cute!” Kuroo was really smiling now, and so was Yamaguchi, even though the other was clearly trying to hide it.

“No, we’re not!” 

“Yeah you are.”

“NO!”

“YES!”

“Excuse me?” a voice interrupted their fight for the second time. Kuroo looked toward the entrance and saw Akaashi standing there. 

“Hey, Akaashi!” Kuroo greeted, turning away from Yamaguchi. Akaashi looked at the other man curiously.

“Oh, hi! I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi!” Yamaguchi dipped his head. 

Akaashi stared at the antenna sticking straight out of Yamaguchi’s hair, possibly fascinated. He did have to deal with Bokuto’s ridiculous hairdo anyway. And Kuroo’s own mess of hair. 

“Pleasure,” Akaashi said politely. “I’m Akaashi Keiji.”  
“Are you Kuroo’s friend?” Yamaguchi asked. 

“Yes, actually, I’m here for something.” Akaashi looked at Kuroo. “Our anniversary is in two days,” he said simply, obviously referring to him and Bokuto.

Kuroo nodded, prompting him to go on. 

“Essentially, I want you to talk flower to me,” Akaashi finished. Kuroo snorted. 

“Okay, anniversaries…” Yamaguchi tapped his chin. “Got it. Kuroo, you have his number, right?”

Kuroo nodded. 

“Excellent. We can get the arrangement to you by tomorrow, is that okay with you?” Yamaguchi asked Akaashi.

“Of course,” Akaashi answered.

“Great! We’ll get started and get back to you tomorrow, then!” Yamaguchi clapped his hands together. “And congratulations on your anniversary!”

“Thank you,” Akaashi smiled softly, usually a rare sight to see. Kuroo was surrounded by love at this point, which he was thankful for. The other reason he loved working at a flower shop was that he got to see smiles, happy faces as people picked out flowers for their parents, lovers, friends, anyone. The little Hinata and his crush, Bokuto and Akaashi, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, and…

He grinned. 

Him and Kenma, he supposed. 


	18. Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lol the title deceives you ;)
> 
> ANYWAY, enjoy this new chapter!
> 
> Man, three a day? *pats myself on the back* I'M so sUccEssFul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've uploaded three times today to satisfy you guys and make up for my absence. *bows* please accept my apology. 
> 
> also, mwah! Get ready for this new chapter!
> 
> Shoutout to: *drumrollllllll*  
> IWillStealYourQuarters: I keep seeing you and your FABULOUS pfp, I love your comments very very much!   
> Togas_Knife: (agaaaiinn because I love your comments and I love the little details you pick upppp

Akaashi had just left Life in Bloom with a wave over his shoulder when the doorbell rang once again. Kuroo and Yamaguchi both looked up from the notepad that Yamaguchi had been writing flower ideas on and stared at the newcomer. 

The first thought Kuroo had was that this guy was insanely pretty. He had light brown hair that tufted up at the ends and flawless, pale skin. He wasn’t somebody who would stand out, but was just perfectly ordinary. Kuroo would have flirted with him, but then he realized the newcomer was yelling at someone over his shoulder and had his arm looped around another man.

The pretty guy’s apparent boyfriend was a few centimeters shorter than him. He had short, spiky black hair and tanned skin. Kuroo could also tell that this guy was ripped. 

Something clicked. 

_ Hey… I know him! _

Yeah, he was sure. Even though the guy had been in a tank top last time, there was no mistaking the fact that he was the one he’d met at the gym some time ago. 

Suddenly, the brunette looked at him. He felt like a specimen being examined under a microscope, the man’s careful scrutinization taking him apart piece by piece. 

“Oh, he’s kinda hot!” the man exclaimed without shame. Kuroo blinked. 

“Shut up, Trashykawa,” the other man shushed him before turning to Kuroo. 

“Hello again,” the man greeted. 

“Don’t tell me,” Kuroo closed his eyes. Then he snapped his fingers. “Iwaizumi-san.”

“That’s right,” Iwaizumi grinned. “Nice to officially meet you, Kuroo-san.”

“Don’t you fucking dare go in there-” Kenma Kozume popped out from behind the brunette, out of breath and winded. Kuroo’s eyes widened. “Oh. OH! Don’t bother him while he’s working, Tooru!” Kenma smacked the brunette on the shoulder, causing a yelp to emit from the so-called “Tooru”. 

“He’s not working, though!” the brunette gestured toward Kuroo. “There’s no one here yet!”

“Uh,” Yamaguchi cleared his throat. “Welcome to Life in Bloom?”

“Oh!” the brunette looked Yamaguchi up and down. “What’s that thing on your head?”

Iwaizumi clapped a hand over the man’s mouth while Yamaguchi flushed red, but kept his head up high. 

“It’s just my hair, don’t worry,” Yamaguchi said coolly. Kuroo cursed. Yamaguchi didn’t like them. This was bad. 

“Ah, sorry!” the brown-haired man rubbed at his neck, where Kenma had smacked him. “I was just excited, did I offend you?”

“Oh, it’s okay!” Yamaguchi’s familiar beam appeared back onto his face and Kuroo let out a sigh of relief. 

“I’m Oikawa Tooru, this is Iwa-chan,” Oikawa tilted his head at Iwaizumi, “and this is Ken-chan!”

Kuroo would have spit out his water if he had any in his mouth. Kenma made eye contact with him and he raised an eyebrow. Kuroo wisely decided not to say anything. 

“What he means is that I am Iwaizumi Hajime and this is Kenma Kozume,” Iwaizumi supplied helpfully. Yamaguchi nodded.

“I get the feeling you’re not here for flowers,” Yamaguchi joked. 

“Ah, no! But Ken-chan is talking about this Kuroo so much that we decided to pay him a visit!” Oikawa chirped. Kenma scoffed and jabbed Oikawa in the side. 

_ Kenma talks about you,  _ Kuroo thought in a daze. 

“Oh, I see! I’ll leave you to it, then!” Yamaguchi looked at Kenma, then at Kuroo, then at Kenma again. Kuroo pushed him into the hallway before turning back to the trio. 

“Oh- uh. Hi,” Kuroo stammered. 

“Hello!” Oikawa beamed, putting emphasis on the last syllable. 

“Tooru, get away from him. You’re making him uncomfortable,” Kenma said bluntly, shuffling toward the counter. 

“So,” Iwaizumi said. “You’re the one dating Kenma.”

Kuroo felt like he was talking to a mother and a father. He swallowed, then straightened up. 

“That’s right,” he answered. 

“You guys slept together?” Oikawa bounced on the balls of his feet eagerly. Kuroo sputtered, surprised that Kenma had told them. Kenma sent him an apologetic look.

“Not that way!” Kuroo exclaimed. 

“Ah, I see,” Oikawa smirked. 

Kuroo didn’t know whether he liked or disliked this Oikawa Tooru.

“I’m Iwa-chan’s boyfriend and Ken-chan’s roommate!” Oikawa introduced himself once again. 

Ah. 

So this was the roommate who was keeping Kenma up and bothered. Unless Iwaizumi was the one. No, that was unlikely. Iwaizumi seemed like too much of a top. 

“So… you’re the…” Kuroo pointed at Iwaizumi, then at Oikawa. “You two are fucking so loud that Kenma’s awake at night?”

Iwaizumi’s face was taking on a very light blush, but Oikawa just whistled and rocked back on his heels, glancing down at Kenma.

“You  _ told  _ him, Ken-chan? You must really talk a lot in order to come around to the subject of sex,” Oikawa said without shame. 

“Shut up, Tooru,” Kenma pursed his lips. 

“Tell us about yourself! Ken-chan won’t tell us anything, so you do it!” Oikawa demanded, turning his focus back to Kuroo.

“Uh,” Kuroo blinked at the sudden subject change. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou? I’m the owner of this place? And do you wanna come over here or something? It seems crowded being in front of the doorframe,” Kuroo offered. 

“Ah! What a gentleman!” Oikawa skipped over to the counter and plopped his elbows on the surface, leaning on his arms and placing his chin in his hands. “But that wasn’t enough. What do you like? What are your hobbies? What affiliation do you have with Ken-chan-”

Iwaizumi smacked his boyfriend on the back of the head, and Oikawa tipped forward, huffing indignantly. “Don’t keep asking questions, Shittykawa!”

“But Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whined. 

“You’re making Kuroo-san feel awkward!”

“I’m noooooot, I sweaaar!”

Kenma slipped behind the counter while the two were bickering and stood next to Kuroo. 

“Is this normal?” Kuroo whispered to Kenma.

“Yes,” Kenma answered solemnly. “It’s a daily thing. Maybe even an hourly thing.”

“Ah,” was all Kuroo could say as they watched the couple play-fight. 

“What are you doing here?” Kuroo asked after a moment.

“Wasn’t my choice. Tooru wanted to see what you looked like, things like that,” Kenma sighed. 

“Oh. Do you talk about me to him?” Kuroo asked curiously. Kenma didn’t look up at him but talked toward the ground.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Rooster Head.”

“Whatever you say, Kitten.”

Oikawa and Iwaizumi both quieted, then stared at each other. Then their gazes landed on Kuroo and Kenma. 

“Rooster Head?” Iwaizumi asked. 

“Kitten?” Oikawa’s voice was rising with eagerness.

“Oh no,” Kenma mumbled. 

“OH MY GOSH! YOU HAVE PET NAMES FOR EACH OTHER!” Oikawa squealed, hopping up and down. “FUCK MY QUESTIONS, YOU TWO ARE PERFECT!”  
“I agree with Trashykawa here,” Iwaizumi nodded, sending a kind grin at the two of them. “That is a couple-y thing to do.”

“We’re not a couple,” Kuroo and Kenma insisted at the same time. Kuroo looked down at Kenma, who glanced back up. 

“I mean-” Kuroo began.

“Sure, maybe-” Kenma fiddled with his hoodie. 

“Something like that?” Kuroo finished. 

Iwaizumi and Oikawa exchanged knowing glances. 

“Have you kissed yet?” Oikawa asked. Iwaizumi clucked his tongue and smacked Oikawa once more. 

“What?” Kuroo asked nervously, at the same time Kenma said, “Yes.”

“WHAT?!” Oikawa shouted. “KEN-CHAN KISSED SOMEONE?”

“It’s not a big deal. It wasn’t on the lips either,” Kenma twirled a strand of hair around his finger, something Kuroo had discovered was something he did when he wanted a conversation to stop. 

“We’re not that far yet, don’t worry,” Kuroo laughed. 

“You know what?” Iwaizumi asked. “I’m taking the trash out. C’mon, Shittykawa.”

And the couple left just as quickly as they’d come, bickering and smacking each other once again. Kenma let out an enormous breath after the doorbell had stopped tinkling. 

“That was awkward,” Kuroo chuckled nervously. 

“Hm,” Kenma murmured. “They don’t need to know what we do, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo cleared his throat, then looked at Kenma. He was in an oversized hoodie, something he could shrink back in and possibly feel more secure. He had on ripped black skinny jeans and his hair was down, falling across his face like a curtain. 

Kuroo felt his arm rise and he pushed the hair out of Kenma’s face. Kenma glanced at him out of the corner of his cat-like eye. Kuroo tucked the lock behind Kenma’s ear. 

“There,” Kuroo nodded. “I like seeing your face.”

Kenma looked away and played with the sleeves of the hoodie. 

Kuroo had the sudden urge to kiss Kenma. On the lips, this time. Actually, he wanted to kiss Kenma everywhere. On his cheeks. On his forehead. On the top of his head. On the backs of his hands, on his pale skin of his neck, and he wanted to kiss Kenma’s lips until they were red and flushed. 

“I want to kiss you,” Kuroo blurted. Kenma whirled around in surprise, and Kuroo slapped a hand over his own mouth.  _ Shit.  _ “Wait, I didn’t mean it. Sorry, I was- I dunno. I wasn’t thinking,” Kuroo rambled. 

He had a sudden feeling of déjà vu. It was almost exactly what had happened in his own apartment. Kenma had Kuroo’s shirt in his grip, was pulling him down until they were even, Kenma on his tiptoes. But instead of the soft brushing feeling on his cheek, it was secure, firm on his lips. 

Kenma’s nose brushed against Kuroo’s and had his eyes squeezed shut. Kenma’s lips were soft on his, like the velvety feeling of a rose petal between his fingers. Kuroo didn’t have time to kiss back, though, because suddenly Kenma had let go of his shirt and whisked out of Life in Bloom. 


	19. Juice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AY YO BROS! BROOOOOOOO  
> BROOOO  
> bRo  
> ok i'll stop. 
> 
> I'm so sorry for not posting, here's a little fun episode for you guys to look at and cringe at the amount of bros!
> 
> you already know which two crazy idiots im talking about.
> 
> KIRISHIMA AND DENKIIIIII
> 
> -me, a lameass and someone who realizes that kiridenki is a brotp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a filler but a fun one! Brokuto and Kurbro are back at it. Also, remind me not to mess with Kuroo's juice.
> 
> this is a v short chapter, but if yall just press Entire Work, BOOMMM CHICKA POW!
> 
> it's suddenly an actual story without you having to press next chapter every two seconds cuz theyre shooorrrrttttttt ;w;

Kuroo hadn’t heard from Kenma in two weeks. For the first hour or so, he was still shocked. Occasionally, he kept raising a hand to smooth a thumb over his lips. The lips that Kenma had kissed. After about a day, he tried texting Kenma, things like “hey, can we talk?” and “please answer me, kitten” when Kenma didn’t answer. His texts got read, though, which was something. 

At the end of the first three days, Kuroo was starting to get a bit worried. The only proof that Kenma was alive was when the little “Read at:” icon showed up after his ever-constant texts, which built up like trash. 

His excitement, his delight at the kiss turned to concern after the first week. Kuroo would have gone to Kenma’s apartment but, like the idiot he was, he’d never gotten Kenma’s address. He didn’t have Iwaizumi’s number either. Or, hell, even Oikawa’s. So he was beating himself up about this, wondering if he should have kissed back, wondering what Kenma wanted, wondering, wondering, wondering.

A week and two days in, he gave up. Kuroo pounded it into his head daily, that Kenma had a life to live without him and that Kuroo wasn’t the center of Kenma’s attention. That they weren’t anything, not quite yet, and that Kenma was free to do what he wanted. He told himself this until he believed it. 

But a tiny part of him, the back of his brain, still held Kenma tight. It cradled the thought of him. It cherished the kiss, the hugs, the banters, and the laughter they shared. 

“You’re being wayyyy too overdramatic, bro,” Bokuto shook his head. It was Kuroo’s day off, and he was currently hugging his pillow as Bokuto bounced on the edge of his bed. Akaashi was working, so it was just him. 

“What do you mean, bro?” Kuroo whined. “I thought me and him had something! I thought he would answer my texts!”

“Dude, you need to give him space. He’s probably not mad at you, bro. You said he was a YouTuber, right? Doesn’t he have like… editing and filming and camera things to do, bro?” Bokuto reasoned, which was a first. 

“Ughhhhh I hate that you’re right,” Kuroo moaned. He realized his mistake too late. His eyes shot open and he scrambled to sit up straight in the bed. “W-wait. Dude, I-”

“You didn’t put ‘bro’ after your sentence,” Bokuto whispered, staring at him. Kuroo watched, horrified, as Bokuto’s hair began to droop and his golden eyes began to glass over. “We’re bros!”

“Bro, I’m so sorry,” Kuroo rushed out. “Bro, I swear, it was an accident.”

“It’s been done. I’ve taken fall damage, bro,” Bokuto collapsed onto the bed face-first. 

“NOOOOOO!” Kuroo shouted. “Shit, bro! No, don’t leave me!”

“I’m sorry,” Bokuto whispered, slightly muffled by the sheets. “I see the light now. It’s glorious…”

“BRO!” Kuroo yelled, throwing himself on top of Bokuto’s back. “Bro, don’t go! No, stay with me, bro!”

Bokuto said nothing. 

“BROOOOOOO!” Kuroo howled, shaking the limp Bokuto’s shoulders. 

“But I’m not kidding,” Bokuto said, lifting his face from the sheets. Kuroo dropped his head. “I’ve come back as a ghost to tell you that Kenma deserves some time to himself.”

“Bro, even as a ghost, you’re so wise. You’re right, bro,” Kuroo sighed, flopping back against the pillows. “I need a drink.”

“Great, bro. I’ll get the Capri Sun,” Bokuto nodded, jumping off the bed. 

“I’m twenty-two!” Kuroo called after Bokuto, running after him. “I can get my own Capri Sun!”

After a lot of bickering over who would get what flavor, they sat down at the island and tapped their juice together. Then they drank like kings. 

“You sure he’s not mad, bro?” Kuroo asked after taking a swig from the straw. 

“Aw, yeah, bro. If he were mad, he would… like… not answer your texts and not talk to you.”

“BRO! NOT HELPING!”

“Next time, I get the Tropical Punch, bro!”

“Bro, you know that I love the Tropical Punch!”

“It was the last one! I’m your guest, lemme have it, bro!”

Kuroo let out a sigh before offering the juice to Bokuto, who clamped his lips around the straw and took way too big of a drink. 

“BRO! NO- SPIT IT OUT!” Kuroo shrieked, tackling Bokuto. 

“Naverjagh,” Bokuto warbled around the mouthful of juice. 

“Don’t do it, bro,” Kuroo warned. “Don’t you do it, you naughty owl!”

Bokuto swallowed. 

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Kuroo wailed, sinking to the floor and burying his head in his hands. And just to rub it in, Bokuto snatched up Kuroo’s juice and sucked it all up, every last drop. Then he waved the empty pouch in Kuroo’s face. Kuroo looked up from his hands. He clenched them tight, then glared up at a smug Bokuto. 

“You. Will. Pay,” Kuroo panted. 

He leapt on top of Bokuto and started smacking his face (gently) with each word. “I! Loved! That! Juice! How! Could! You?! Bro!”

“Dude- bro- stop!” Bokuto wheezed, possibly because of how Kuroo was sitting on his stomach. 

Kuroo wondered if this was the reason why Kenma had not answered him. Maybe he and Akaashi were out doing something, away from the idiots that Bokuto and Kuroo were. He imagined Kenma and Akaashi sitting at some ice cream place, complaining how the hot hunks in their lives were absolutely and definitely stupid little shits. 

Yeah, he could picture it clear as fuck. 

  
  



	20. Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't think anyone reads these anymore *sniff*
> 
> but I'll do em anyway! 
> 
> Kenma thinks a lot and doesn't talk a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I *cough* I kinda need to make something up for Kenma's sub's name. Something. Anything. Help Kenma out, please. 
> 
> Anyway, I don't make videos so Idk if this process is right or not. But WHO CARES I GOOGLED IT

_ Stupid Kuroo.  _ Kenma was curled up in his gaming chair with his headset on. He may as well have been a statue, because the only thing moving was his fingers and his eyes as they darted across the screen.  _ Stupid Kuroo with his stupid hair and his stupid laugh and his stupid way of caring for me.  _

“Yo, KodzuKen!” a voice blared in his headset. “You’re spacing out, aren’t you?”

“Sorry,” Kenma mumbled.  _ Stupid Kuroo who liked my stupid channel name which had been chosen as a stupid dare! Stupid, stupid, stupid.  _

Gaming was his little world. It was Kenma’s way of relieving stress, celebrating, or venting all his anger out into the buttons. So that’s what Kenma did. He fueled his anger to his fingers and he tapped, fiddled, fired. Kenma never really liked these kinds of shooting games, but at least something could die at his frustration. 

It wasn’t until Momo leapt into his lap when Kenma realized that he had gripped the controller so hard that his knuckles turned white. Kenma tore off the headset, punched the power button, and flung the controller away for it to disappear somewhere into his room. 

He didn’t know what he had been thinking. No, he hadn’t been thinking at all. Kenma only saw Kuroo, flushed and embarrassed at his own outburst. And Kenma had lurched forward before his mind knew what was happening, yanked Kuroo down, and…

And kissed him. Kenma didn’t even know  _ how  _ to kiss. He’d assumed kissing was just… two people smushing their mouths together, so that’s what he did. He poured everything he couldn’t say, couldn’t formulate into words into that kiss. When he had pulled away, he got a one second glance at Kuroo’s face. Shocked, dumbfounded. 

So that one second glance had triggered his fight or flight. Kenma took flight, palms sweating and tears brimming at his eyes. 

But he didn’t cry until he got home. 

Kenma cried for his own stupidity, for thinking that Kuroo and him were something real. Kenma cried for the fact that he was a little fucking player, having Kuroo wrapped around his finger like that. Kenma cried for the look on Kuroo’s face. Kenma cried and cried and cried and Momo, the entire time, just sat next to him, occasionally swiping a paw across his wet face. 

By the time Kenma was done, he was exhausted. He was done. He felt like he had drained himself out, that there was no feeling left in him. Just… numbness. 

Now, two weeks after that fiasco, Kenma flung himself onto his bed. He unlocked his phone and, like he’d been doing the entire two weeks, he scrolled through all of Kuroo’s unanswered messages. Toward the beginning, they were playful and fun, with jokes to go along with them. They were hourly, too. In the middle, the texts clearly showed his concern, asking if Kenma was okay. These ones came in bursts every few days. And at the end, Kuroo had stopped. His texts dwindled down to about one or two a day, and those ones were straight to the point, asking if he was alive and if Kuroo could get his address so he could come over. 

Kenma didn’t answer a single one. 

Because Kenma Kozume was a fucking coward. A coward who ran away, a coward who couldn’t protect himself, and a coward who relied way too much on Kuroo Tetsurou, strong, confident, and humorous. 

They were incompatible. They were… wrong. Every time Kenma felt a little twinge at his heart, maybe because of something Kuroo had said or done, a voice in his mind asked him, “How would you feel if people saw you?” Kenma had absolutely nothing against being gay. At least, he thought he was gay. Was it gay if you never fell in love with someone until the right someone came along? Kuroo felt right… and he felt right… but the world wouldn’t think it was right.

Fear was there. Fear ate away at him and molded him into a coward. A coward who cared about what his viewers and subscribers saw, and a coward who would run away if the cameras caught his own life. Him holding hands with Kuroo. Him hugging Kuroo. Him laughing with Kuroo. Him kissing Kuroo. 

Press, fans, and cameras would ruin this. Fame was his blessing and his curse, and as he lay in his bed, staring at the texts, he promised himself that he would never,  _ never  _ let the cameras get to Kuroo. 

In order for that to happen, he had to stay away from him. He had to stay away, to protect both himself and Kuroo. It didn’t hurt quite yet. Just a little throb at his heart, at his mind, but that was it. 

Kenma let out all his frustrations and his angers through one big, load-bearing sigh. Then he decided to make a video. 

As much as Kenma hated it, his life centered around what his viewers saw. He made money off of this, he gamed for them. 

But Kenma remembered a time where gaming was secondhand, where gaming was a fun activity for him to do with online friends. He still played, of course, but he played for their entertainment, not his own. Kenma didn’t know how he blew up onto the charts so fast. And he certainly kept his private life away from what they saw. He signed autographs and had merchandise, but he never asked for this. Was it welcome? Of course. Was this what he wanted? Kenma decided that it was merely a pleasant but shocking surprise. 

He flicked on the ring lights and angled them toward him. Then he fired up his computer, found his headset, turned on the camera, and put on a smile for them. Kenma’s videos never included “Subscribe below!” or “Leave a like and comment!”

He didn’t care about these things. He didn’t care whether they liked it or not. He didn’t care if he had thirty subscribers or thirty million. As he started his playthrough of a very recommended game, he kept his voice level and louder than he usually expected. Kenma changed himself for the cameras, made sure what they saw was acceptable. 

And Kenma had no idea if this was wrong or right. Still, he was good at editing things out and special effects. He’d found out over the years that his viewers loved Momo, so in videos, he let her do her thing. She was a natural star, always jumping into his lap, looking into the camera, parading around his room as he played. 

Kenma read comments, too. He didn’t know if he should, but curiosity had tempted him too much for him to  _ not  _ read comments. Kenma was good with hate. He read hate comments, he shrugged and moved on. Everyone was entitled to their own opinion. Besides, these hate comments were tiny things, how badly he was playing, how weird he looked. Kenma didn’t care about these ones. Actually, Kenma didn’t care at all about the comments. Even when he got one especially supportive one or one very heartfelt note, he felt indifferent toward it. Through a screen, love and appreciation only felt a bit fake. 

Which led him right back to Kuroo, whose love and appreciation was untamed and unfiltered. Kenma decided that Kuroo was a “cup half full” kind of person and gave zero fucks if someone hated him. Kuroo, unlike Kenma, cared, though. He cared enough to send him texts and hug him and ask if he was okay. Kenma was the opposite. He felt like if he felt nothing at all, everything was going to be better.

An hour and a half later, Kenma took off his headset, revealing his tousled hair, and he nodded in satisfaction. 

“I liked the game, it was okay,” Kenma began his mini review. “But I didn’t like the graphics very much, or the way it went off track occasionally. Overall, it was an amazing game with a great storyline.” He looked at the camera and began to finish up. “A lot of you have been asking me to do a non-gaming video, and I need ideas, since… my life is basically just gaming,” Kenma chuckled. This was untrue, but he needed something to show his viewers that he appreciated their feedback. “Anyway, I’ll wrap up here and your ideas would be great. I hereby end my playthrough today, and,” Kenma pointed at the camera, “I’m doing daily videos now. Or, I’m going to try to. So look out for that. Have an apple juice today and I’ll see you later, kings, queens, and everything in between.”

Gosh, he needed a new name for his subscribers. He’d have to ask Oikawa, after Oikawa came home, that is. Oikawa was currently at Iwaizumi’s place, and if Kenma’s calculations were right, he was having the brains fucked out of him. Kenma’s calculations were always right. He turned off the camera and began the long, long process of editing the video. 

Halfway through inserting some effects, Kenma gave up. Yeah, he was done for today. He’d uploaded eight videos in the span of the past two weeks, to his viewers’ immense shock. Usually he did videos every three days, or some other pattern like that. 

Kenma left his room, Momo trailing behind him, and went to the kitchen for his comfort food, ice cream. He pulled the carton out of the freezer and sat down on the couch with a spoon, Momo jumping up next to him and settling against his side. 

“You know, Momo,” Kenma said between bites. The cat looked up at him. “I met this guy.”

Momo chirped curiously. Kenma had no shame in talking to his cat. He assumed everyone did it to their pets. At least, he thought they should. Pets were good listeners.

“I haven’t filled you in on anything, but I really like him,” Kenma tapped the spoon against the rim of the carton. “His name is Kuroo and he’s a florist. He works with flowers and things like that. But… I kinda… messed up two weeks ago. That’s why I was crying like a little-” he paused, and looked down at a disapproving Momo. “Sorry, Momo. But I was crying because I did something that I don’t think he wanted me to.” Kenma sighed and ran the hand that he didn’t use to touch the carton through Momo’s fur. “I ruined it, Momo.”

The cat placed a paw on top of his thigh and he scratched behind her ears. “Thanks, Momo. You’re a good cat but I don’t think you can help me through this.” Momo meowed questioningly. “Yeah, I don’t know what to do.”

Then, to his incredible shock, Momo tapped a paw against his pocket. His pocket, where his phone was. His phone… where Kuroo’s texts were. Of course, Momo was most likely looking for treats when she tapped against his pocket, but Kenma still let out a small smile and hugged the cat close to his chest. “Thanks, Momo. I don’t know if I can do it, though. I’m not strong like you are.”

Momo puffed her chest out a bit at this, and lashed her tail in the air gracefully. Kenma laughed. 

“I’m not as pretty as you, either. Don’t worry, Momo, you’ll be the prettiest girl in my life. Forever,” Kenma assured the cat. Which was true, as there were going to be… no girls in his life. Come to think of it, Kenma didn’t even know if he wanted boys in his life. He just wanted Kuroo. It could only be Kuroo. Kenma couldn’t picture himself with someone who wasn’t Kuroo, no matter their gender. 

Which probably showed how obsessed he was with the man. There was something about him, other than his good looks that made Kenma want to burst, or hug a pillow as tight as he could. Kuroo was goodhearted, goodlooking, and had good intentions, but Kenma knew that good was a terrible understatement for Kuroo. Kuroo was a lot of things Kenma couldn’t describe, rolled up into one hot guy who seemed to be different around Kenma. 

Funny. Kenma and Kuroo were chasing each other around in circles, but it seemed now that Kenma was the one running away, only for Kuroo to go after him. Kenma didn’t think this could be considered a fight, but he wanted it to stop. He knew that he was hesitating to make the first move, but Kenma didn’t have a big ego or pride, unlike Oikawa. He was… scared. Unlike Oikawa. 

But he didn’t need anyone’s help except Momo’s. He would get through this by himself, alone, just as he always did. 


	21. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It gets SPICY in here bro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenma's fans are now called the Momians (AFTER MOMO OFC) and y'all are hereby dubbed my entities. cuz you guys are magical. I credit moonjaejae for coming up with the name!

Alright, Kuroo was worried now. Kenma hadn’t answered his texts for another three days. Kenma didn’t even bother reading them anymore, which had caused Kuroo to go into a mini panic attack. All throughout work and at Life in Bloom, Kuroo had been thinking about Kenma. And not in a good way. As in, wondering if Kenma was really okay. Wondering if he had done something wrong, and that Kenma was now in danger. 

So Kuroo went to the gym. Not to work out, since he had given up trying to leave his house for anything other than work a few days ago. No, he was going to see someone at the gym and he was praying that the person was there. 

“Iwaizumi-san, Iwaizumi-san, Iwaizumi-san, c’mon!” Kuroo mumbled to himself, striding through the gym and looking around frantically, trying to spot the man. Iwaizumi wasn’t very noticeable, so multiple times, Kuroo had come up to a stranger and had to apologize profusely for bothering them. “Oh, damn you, Iwaizumi-san!”

Kuroo wound his way into the locker room and started looking down each aisle before spotting a man tugging a T-shirt over his head. Kuroo caught a glimpse of spiky black hair and tanned skin, and he let out an enormous sigh of relief before starting down the aisle. “Iwaizumi-san?”

The man whirled around and Kuroo let out a puff of air. Iwaizumi stared back at him quizzically. “Kuroo-san? What are you doing here?”

“Well, it’s a gym. I can come whenever I want,” Kuroo said matter-of-factly, causing Iwaizumi to chuckle. “And second, I need your help.”

Iwaizumi tilted his head at Kuroo and furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?”

Kuroo plopped down onto one of the benches and his shoulders slumped. Iwaizumi sat down next to him and eyed him carefully. “Look, I need to know where Kenma lives.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be glad to tell you, but I’d like to know why.”

“He’s been ignoring me for… two and a half weeks now?” Kuroo sighed. “I’m getting worried about him.”

“I see,” Iwaizumi nodded. “Alright. Remember this address, okay?” 

Kuroo dipped his head, and Iwaizumi rattled off an address that wasn’t too far away from where Life in Bloom was. He was surprised that Kenma was much closer than he expected. 

“Oh- and one thing,” Iwaizumi called after him as he started to leave. Kuroo turned around curiously. “He’s scared.”

Kuroo blinked. “Sorry?”

“Kenma,” Iwaizumi continued. “He’s scared. So… don’t hurt him, okay?”

“I would never intentionally hurt Kenma,” Kuroo promised immediately, and Iwaizumi scrutinized him a bit. Kuroo now knew why Oikawa listened to this man. Iwaizumi’s eyes, a mixture of gray, green, and brown unraveled him, took him apart and pieced him back together. Oikawa’s eyes saw everything, his chocolate-brown eyes twinkling mischievously, but Iwaizumi stared at him with something more powerful. Something smoldering. 

“I trust you,” Iwaizumi finally said. Kuroo let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I really do.”

“Thank you, Iwaizumi-san,” Kuroo dipped his head. Iwaizumi sat back on the bench, and Kuroo whisked out of the locker room. He exited the gym, the address blaring in large white characters in his mind, crystal clear.  _ I need to get to Kenma. I need to see him.  _

Kuroo exited the gym and ran to his motorcycle, yanking on his helmet and swinging a leg over the bike and starting it up, the engine roaring to life. He drove out of the parking lot and raced through the street. But not too fast, obviously. He wasn’t  _ that  _ much of a hooligan. He’d been through too many cop encounters to speed again. 

After driving for about fifteen minutes, Kuroo yanked off his helmet and sucked in a breath. His hair couldn’t possibly get worse than its usual state, so he never really had to worry about helmet hair. Kuroo hopped off the bike and stared up at the apartment building before licking his lips nervously and starting up the stairs. His heartbeat started going faster and faster with every step he took, and he felt like he was going to explode by the time he reached Kenma’s place. 

Kuroo leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, partially because of the stairs he had climbed and partially because of the fact that the person who didn’t want to see him whatsoever was separated from him by just one wall. 

_ Just see if he’s alive, Tetsurou,  _ he reassured himself.  _ Then leave. He doesn’t wanna talk to you so leave your fat mouth shut.  _

Kuroo nodded, taking a few deep breaths before raising a hand to knock on the door. His knuckles stopped a few inches away from the surface. 

No, no, no, no. He couldn’t do this, he wasn’t strong enough for this! This was Kenma he was talking about! And Kenma had made it quite clear that he didn’t want anything to do with Kuroo! What was he doing here? Kenma could definitely take care of himself. 

Slowly, Kuroo lowered his hand and let it fall back to his side. He hung his head and turned away from the door, swallowing hard. Kuroo wanted to walk away. He wanted to leave this place, and have nothing to do with the emotions inside of him. Yet he also wanted to knock on the door, have the strength to look into a pair of golden kitten eyes. 

Kuroo started moving away from the door, his sight glued on the apartment place. He scanned his eyes over every last detail and every last groove, notch, and ridge on the door. Then he turned away for good, not looking back. He was halfway to the stairs when-

“Kuroo?”

Kuroo whipped around in surprise and saw… Kenma. Kenma in a long T-shirt, covering a fourth of his thighs. Kuroo’s eyes immediately snapped down to Kenma’s legs, pale and unblemished. His mouth went dry as he scanned over Kenma’s body, much slimmer-looking than when he was dressed in a hoodie and jeans. 

“Kuroo?” Kenma repeated, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Oh-” Kuroo cleared his throat. “Sorry. Kenma, look, I-”

“Shut it and get in,” Kenma ordered. Kuroo blinked, then Kenma whirled around and strode into his place. Kuroo scrambled after him, chewing on the inside of his mouth nervously. 

He kicked off his shoes at the entrance and shut the door behind him. Kenma’s apartment was cluttered, showing proof that Oikawa lived here. But it wasn’t messy, or dirty. The place had alien trinkets and toys scattered about, and cat toys littered the corners of the living room. Kuroo decided that Kenma’s place was like a hug, wrapping around him snugly. He liked it. 

Kuroo’s attention snapped back to Kenma when the latter threw himself onto the couch. Kuroo stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Kenma was very unreadable, and Kuroo shuffled around on his feet. 

“Tooru’s out training his nephew and some other kids,” Kenma said in a monotone. Then again, Kenma’s voice was usually flat. Still, Kuroo felt a twinge in his stomach and in something deep inside of him. 

“Kenma, I’m sorry,” Kuroo said, straight to the point.

“Don’t apologize,” Kenma commanded in such a powerful voice that Kuroo shut up. “I’m sorry.”

Kuroo opened his mouth to speak, but Kenma patted the seat next to him on the couch. Kuroo took it as okay, and he sat down carefully. A cat wandered out from one of the rooms and leapt onto the couch, settling itself in Kuroo’s lap. Kuroo felt himself smile, and he ran a hand through its fur. 

“That’s Momo,” Kenma said softly. “My cat.”

“She’s cute,” Kuroo grinned. 

“Don’t say anything until I finish,” Kenma said, his voice hardening once again. “I am sorry. I’m sorry for not answering your texts. I’m sorry for not talking to you. I’m sorry for kissing you. I’m sorry for being such a bad person to like. I’m sorry for being…” Kenma took a deep breath. Kuroo stayed true to his word and didn’t say anything, but he kept his eyes on Kenma. Words wanted to flood out of his mouth, but he bit his lip and stayed silent. “I’m sorry for not being good enough for someone like you.”

Kenma didn’t say another word, so Kuroo opened his mouth and started speaking. “First of all, I understand. I guess I thought that… you needed space. Don’t ever be sorry for kissing me. I-” Kuroo swallowed a lump in his throat, his face burning. He tried not to look at Kenma’s legs. Or any part of him. “I enjoyed it, even if I didn’t get to return your favor. You’re the perfect person to like. You’re the most likeable person in the world to me. And… and I’m sorry for not being someone easy to like. You’re so much better than me, Kenma. You’re honest and sweet and charming. I’m-”

“Smart and hilarious and affectionate,” Kenma blurted out. Kuroo blinked, trying to ignore the flare on his ears and cheeks. 

“Oh,” was all Kuroo could say. 

“I don’t want to fight with you,” Kenma sighed, shifting around on the couch. Momo purred contentedly in Kuroo’s lap. 

“Me neither,” Kuroo agreed. “I’m rushing us. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t know if we were rushing,” Kenma said in a small voice. “I thought it felt normal. I thought we were moving fine.”

“Ah,” Kuroo fiddled with his fingers. “So you think that we’re fine, but I think we’re moving too fast.”

“Which one are we?” Kenma asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Kuroo answered honestly. “I thought you would think that we were rushing things. Since… you’ve never been in a relationship and all.”

“I thought we were perfect,” Kenma whispered. 

“Me too,” Kuroo scratched the back of Momo’s head. “I… I still think we are.”

“But other people might not,” Kenma bowed his head. Kuroo didn’t know whether to hug Kenma or leave him alone or what. 

“Because of your… your viewers?”

“Yes,” Kenma sighed. “I really care about what they think, even though I shouldn’t. It’s not easy to just… not care.”

“I know,” Kuroo said simply. “It’s okay. I can’t tell you to not care, but I do wanna do things with you, kitten. I like you, remember?” Kuroo smiled, quite bashfully. He focused on the cat in his lap and refused to make eye contact with Kenma. 

There was an awkward silence between them before Kenma’s soft voice broke the quiet. 

“I wanna do… things with you, too,” Kenma coughed. “I just don’t know how.”

“I can teach you,” Kuroo offered, lifting his gaze back up to Kenma. “You don’t have to do this alone. Because if I’m being honest, your kiss was too fast for me to enjoy.”

Kenma swallowed and looked down, playing with his fingers in his lap. Which, by the way, was still bare and pale. Kuroo wondered if his entire body was this pale, and how easy it would be to just litter it with marks and bites.  _ No, Kuroo! _

“Could you teach me?” Kenma asked. It was so quiet that Kuroo almost missed it, but his ears perked up and his heart skipped a beat, as it usually did around Kenma. 

“C’mere,” Kuroo turned his body so that he was facing Kenma, and Momo jumped out of his lap, shooting him a look of betrayal. Kuroo didn’t catch it since his gaze was focused entirely on Kenma, whose face was red and nervous. Kenma shifted around so that he was facing Kuroo, and their legs bumped against each other. Kuroo’s skin tingled at the touch. 

Cautiously, he let his hands settle onto Kenma’s face, smoothing his cheeks with his thumbs. 

“I-I’ve never done this before,” Kenma mumbled. 

“It’s okay. I’ll help you,” Kuroo reassured, moving his face closer to Kenma’s. Kenma wasn’t able to look down in embarrassment, since Kuroo’s hands were still positioned on his cheeks. 

Kuroo’s heart was beating so fast and so hard that he was sure that Kenma could hear it. He inched closer and closer, Kenma occasionally lurching forward a millimeter or two, both of them trembling with anticipation. 

Kenma scooted forward, his nose brushing against Kuroo’s, their breaths mingling with every ragged inhale. Kuroo stared into Kenma’s eyes, which were even more mesmerizing up close. They were gold, yes, but clear and flecked with light shades of brown. Kuroo could have stared at Kenma’s eyes forever, but Kenma suddenly fluttered his eyes shut and Kuroo swallowed. 

Then he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips firmly against Kenma’s. He felt Kenma’s body twitch just a bit before adjusting himself until he was basically sitting in Kuroo’s lap. Kuroo’s hands moved from Kenma’s face to the back of his head, entangling in the bleached locks and running through his hair. 

Kenma’s own hands fluttered unsurely around Kuroo’s body before finally settling gently and cautiously on Kuroo’s sides. Kuroo felt the area where Kenma’s hands were burn. 

Their inhales and exhales synchronized and Kuroo could hear Kenma’s quick heartbeat pattering nervously. 

Then Kuroo felt a tongue push gently at his mouth. Kuroo smiled into their kiss and allowed Kenma access before licking his own way into Kenma’s mouth. He explored Kenma, tracing his teeth with his tongue and tightening his grip on Kenma’s hair. 

Kuroo heard Kenma make a little noise, somewhere between a moan and a sigh. Kuroo deepened the kiss and felt Kenma’s hands move from his sides to his hair, weaving his fingers through Kuroo’s tousled locks. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, just the two of them locked together and the space between them a million degrees, Kenma pulled away with a wet smack. Kuroo sucked in a deep breath and stared at Kenma with wide eyes, who looked back nervously. 

“I-I. Um,” Kenma stammered. 

Kuroo pecked him gently on the lips to silence him, and Kenma buried his face in Kuroo’s shoulder. Kuroo laughed and wrapped his arms around Kenma’s slight figure, hugging him close and beaming wide, inhaling the fruity, vanilla-y scent of Kenma's hair and nuzzling his face onto the top of Kenma's head. 


	22. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YO YO MY ENTITIES
> 
> alright, so because of winter break, I'm on like... a schedule for my computer usage time now. Which means today, I get it, but tomorrow I don't. So on and so forth. It'll end after winter break is over, though, which is something. ANYWAY enjoy this little chapter! Apologies for the inconvenience, my dudes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kenma and Akaashi are ready to go on a date.

The two of them took it slow. Kenma was actually quite good at kissing, Kuroo figured, for someone who had never been in a relationship before. Kuroo was better at the more intimate and touchy-contact stuff, but he had to constantly remind himself that just feeling Kenma’s hand slip into his or having Kenma rest his head on his shoulder was better than anything he could ever imagine. 

Kenma still got wildly embarrassed whenever they kissed, though, which only made it more endearing. Kuroo discovered that Kenma was much more hypnotizing up close, with his piercing but gentle eyes and his usually reddened cheeks. They didn’t do much more than kiss, however. In the safe confines of one of their homes, they were free to cuddle and kiss and curl up next to each other. Even if their kisses were sparse, Kuroo enjoyed every second of them. But whenever Kuroo tried to take Kenma’s hand in public or anything that might hint that they were a couple, Kenma pulled away gently, his eyes darting around as if to check if anyone was watching. Kuroo’s mind immediately went back to their first “real” kiss, when Kenma had said that he cared about what his viewers saw.

Apparently this was the life of a celebrity. Kenma had a good disguise whenever he went out, usually wearing baggy clothing and keeping a hood over his head, but Kuroo didn’t feel like Kenma was Kenma in public. Kenma became a different person, a person who double-checked everything he did and how he lived. 

Kuroo thought this life seemed pretty miserable. Still, he respected Kenma’s decisions and whenever Kenma pulled his hand away, Kuroo left it swinging at his side, even if a little twinge in his heart wanted to take back Kenma’s hand and shout to the world that he was dating Kenma Kozume! And the motherfuckers that didn’t like it! Could! Go! Fuck! Themselves! Then again, they were both new to this soft, slow kind of relationship, so he was willing to help both Kenma and himself along. 

Besides, all of Kuroo’s doubts and disappointments disappeared when they got time to themselves, just the two of them, locked in a comforting embrace. 

Kenma was excellent at hugging. His arms were just long enough to wrap around Kuroo’s waist and squeeze him tight. Even though Kenma was smaller than him, Kuroo always thought that Kenma’s hugs made him feel safe, and he wanted to return the feeling. So he hugged back, tugging Kenma close to him as well. 

Kenma visited him at Life in Bloom sometimes, Yamaguchi waving happily when he slunk in through the door. And Yamaguchi, bless his soul, had apparently started coming to Life in Bloom more to help Kuroo out. Which usually meant Tsukishima, unbless his soul, came sauntering in as well. Kenma looked at Tsukishima weird, usually glancing up in something like fear or annoyance. But people tended to do that whenever Tsukishima opened his mouth. 

After a few weeks, Momo was used to him coming to Kenma’s place. She wound around his legs happily and rubbed against his arm when he sat down. Slowly but surely, Kenma and Kuroo were fitting into each other’s lives, the missing piece of the puzzle. 

So Kuroo decided that it was time. 

“Where are you taking me, Kuroo?” Kenma asked as he swung a leg over Kuroo’s motorcycle. At first, Kenma had been very hesitant about riding with him, eyeing the vehicle warily. But after a few test drives, Kuroo could feel Kenma calming down as the smaller man hugged him from behind securely, his heart beating against Kuroo’s back. And Kuroo had even found an extra helmet for Kenma which, to his extreme amusement, was too big at first for Kenma. 

“You’ll see, kitten,” Kuroo grinned as he pulled on his own helmet. “Actually, I’m taking you to my place.”

“Really?” Kenma asked, muffled through his helmet. “We’ve been there loads of times.”

“I want you to meet someone,” Kuroo said simply before revving the engine and speeding off toward his apartment. 

By the time they got there, Kuroo was giddy with excitement. Kenma Kozume was about to meet his dearest bro. He was going to film the entire interaction because holy shit, Kenma was about to meet one of his first lifelong friends. 

Kuroo fished out his apartment key, unlocked the door, and was greeted by off-key, demonic hooting. He blinked, and he saw Kenma scoot behind him. Kuroo stared as Bokuto ran around his apartment, flapping his arms up and down and hooting crazily. Then Kuroo slipped off his shoes, closed the door behind him and Kenma, and joined his bro. He chased Bokuto around the entire apartment, hooting as well. 

Kenma looked around fearfully as Akaashi walked toward him, looking exasperated. 

“Hello,” Kenma mumbled to the man.

“Hello. I’m Akaashi Keiji, Bokuto-san’s boyfriend,” Akaashi nodded at him.

“I’m Kenma. I’m Kuroo’s… plus one,” Kenma swallowed. Kuroo heard this and tried to ignore it. After all, he wasn’t sure what they were either. Definitely not just friends anymore, but if Kenma didn’t want to go too fast, then Kuroo was okay with being in the gray zone for now.

Kuroo skidded to a stop in front of Kenma and Akaashi, Bokuto bumping into him from behind. 

“Kenma, this is my bro, Bokuto,” Kuroo said, slightly out of breath from running around and hooting. 

“I’m Kurbro’s bro, nice to meet ya!” Bokuto beamed. Kenma squinted at the amount of enthusiasm that Bokuto emitted. 

“Holy shit, bro,” Kuroo gasped, turning to Bokuto. 

“What is it, bro?” Bokuto asked. 

“Bro, the two prettiest people in the entire world are standing before us,” Kuroo gestured at Kenma and Akaashi. Kenma cleared his throat and could feel his cheeks flushing. He looked up to see Akaashi scoffing, but there was a blush on his face too. 

“You’re right, bro,” Bokuto said in awe, grinning widely at Akaashi. 

“But enough with the sappy stuff,” Kuroo clapped his hands. “This is Kenma.”

“Hi,” Kenma whispered, still wary of the crazy vibe that Kuroo and Bokuto suddenly gave off. It was like they shared one brain cell. Clearly Akaashi thought so too, since he sighed (with a smile on his face) when Bokuto scooted over to him and kissed him on the forehead. 

“Are you Kurbro’s boyfriend?” Bokuto asked bluntly. 

“Uh-” Kenma looked down, unable to answer. 

“Something like that,” Kuroo said smoothly. “Anyway, I had this, like, vision that Akaashi and Kenma would be the type of people to go out and just completely complain about how idiotic we are.”

Bokuto nodded solemnly. “I can see that.”

Akaashi looked down at Kenma and leaned toward him a bit. “Wanna go out for ice cream later and complain about how idiotic they are?”

Kenma looked at Kuroo, whose mouth was open, and then looked at Bokuto, whose jaw was also dropped. “It’s a date,” he nodded to Akaashi. 

“‘Kaashiiiiii!” Bokuto whined as Kuroo gasped dramatically. 

“Traitor, kitten!” Kuroo pointed at Kenma accusingly. Kenma couldn’t help but grin at their theatrics. 

After a bunch of groaning and extreme overreacting to Akaashi and Kenma’s soon-to-be date, the four of them all settled down on Kuroo’s couch. Kuroo watched curiously as Bokuto nestled onto the arm of the couch, Akaashi leaning into his side as Bokuto wrapped an arm around his boyfriend, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. 

Would it be weird to ask these two about… couple things? 

Nah, he shouldn’t. Bokuto was his bro, and bros talked only about bro things among other bros. Akaashi, though…

“How was your guys’s anniversary?” Kenma’s soft voice broke his thoughts. 

“OH! It was, like, amazing, okay? ‘Kaashi took us to this amazing place and we stayed there for hours and we just… watched the stars and talked and cuddled. Stars are hard to see in the city,” Bokuto sighed happily. “Plus, he got this insane bouquet of flowers for me. It was dope.”

Kenma, Kuroo, and Akaashi exchanged knowing grins. 

“Anyway, I want to know more about… you!” Bokuto leaned forward to meet eyes with Kenma, who blinked. 

“Uh-” Kenma cleared his throat. “What kind of things?”

“Eh, normal stuff! What’s your favorite color, what’s your favorite animal, things like that! I, as a professional bro, wanna know what kinda person is dating my own bro!”

Ah. Kuroo knew what Bokuto was doing. Bokuto, the little owl genius, was finding more about Kenma so that  _ Kuroo  _ would know about these little things, too. Would Bokuto like a fruit basket? No, he’d probably destroy it on sight. 

“Um. My favorite color is red? I like cats? Uh- I used to play volleyball-”

“HOLD UP!” Kuroo shouted, causing Kenma to startle and his eyes to turn into slits for a brief second, just like a cat. “Sorry. But you played volleyball? What position?”

“Setter?” Kenma mumbled, looking at him nervously, as if wondering if Kuroo was crazy. 

“I was a middle blocker, and Brokuto here was an ace. Akaashi tossed to him,” Kuroo said eagerly.  _ Kenma played volleyball? KENMA PLAYED VOLLEYBALL! _

“Oh. Tooru played volleyball, too, before… something happened and he couldn’t go pro,” Kenma said. 

“Damn, we got the whole volleyball squad in here. Me and Kurbro were captains!” Bokuto bounced excitedly on the couch, possibly remembering the great days when they all played volleyball.

“So was Tooru. Iwaizumi was on his team, he was an ace as well,” Kenma said. 

“Tsukki-dude and Yamaguchi were on the same team, Yamaguchi works at Life in Bloom,” Kuroo smiled. 

“DUDE!” Bokuto shrieked, making Akaashi have to shush his boyfriend. “Tsukki-dude is there? Aw man, bro, I gotta pay him a visit!”

“If we both went, I think his little brain would explode because of our power, bro. We gotta spare Tsukki-dude,” Kuroo nodded.

Slowly but surely, their conversation turned into volleyball, something they could all relate to comfortably. They learned about their teams, about the players, and had a bit of fun teasing Bokuto about his high school “emo mode”. Kuroo could feel Kenma relaxing against him, and he decided that volleyball was a safe haven for all of them. 

“I didn’t like or dislike volleyball, though,” Kenma said.

“Huh?” Kuroo looked down at him in confusion.

“I just didn’t like getting tired. Getting tired is too… tiring,” Kenma shook his head. Kuroo snorted, and rested his chin on top of Kenma’s head. 

“Too bad Akaashi here was the one who had to deal with my emo mode, though,” Bokuto grinned at Akaashi. 

“I had your spastic bursts of energy to make up for your emo mode,” Akaashi shrugged. “But I will admit, the worst part was seeing you nervous around me. Always shying away, playing with your hands, or being weird.”

“HEY!” Bokuto complained. “I had a big-ass crush on you, don’t make fun of me!”

Kenma and Kuroo watched in fascination as Bokuto’s hair began deflating and his mouth tugged into a pout. Akaashi sighed, sent them a look that said “See the bullshit I have to deal with? I love him so much” and then began petting the top of Bokuto’s crazy hair gently. Over the years, he had figured out that petting Bokuto would make him feel better. Bokuto was like a cat. Or an owl. 

“Kenma, you said your name was, right?” Bokuto mumbled, his eyes half-lidded. 

“Yeah,” Kenma affirmed. 

“I’ve seen your channel. You’re that gamer, right?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow at Kenma, who nodded. “Cool.”

“Hey, kitten, what kinda things  _ do  _ you do on your channel?” Kuroo asked. 

“Hm? Oh, playthroughs, reactions, things like that. Just stuff that shows me playing something. I don’t do vlogs or things, but I am currently in the middle of raising money for patients with cancer and long-term diseases,” Kenma rattled off like he’d said this a million times. 

“That’s really cool, though! You said you go to conventions?” Kuroo tilted his head. Kenma leaned back against him and looked up at him. 

“Yeah. I don’t like that stuff,” Kenma furrowed his eyebrows slightly. 

“Ah,” was all Kuroo could say. Kuroo had gathered enough information about Kenma to know that he was real shy around strangers and had people following him back occasionally. And the poor guy had to go to events with hundreds of strangers. 

“I like my fans. But sometimes they go a bit overboard,” Kenma sighed. 

“Makes sense. They’re all going crazy for you, which is understandable,” Kuroo grinned down at Kenma, who looked away, his mouth curling into a smile. 

“I can’t believe it,” Akaashi’s voice caused them both to look over at him. Akaashi had a look of disbelief on his face as he stared down at his boyfriend, whose head was in his lap. “Bokuto-san’s fallen asleep!”

Kenma and Kuroo had to stifle their laughter, which threatened to explode out as they watched Bokuto roll over in his sleep so his face was  planted firmly on Akaashi’s thighs. 


	23. Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm soooo tired, my entities. Like... collapse face first on my bed and just knock out for 11 hours level tired. 
> 
> BUT ILL KEEP UP THE ENTHUSIASM FOR YALL SO ENJOY THIS OTHER CHAPTER :)))
> 
> the two chapters I did today are gonna have to make up for my absence tomorrow.... due to that stupid routine I have to go through ugh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaddup entities? new chapter coming at ya! *finger guns*
> 
> I'm writing filler at this point.... because... I've come up with absolutely nothing on how to make this story special, shocking, or exciting. I'm just drained. 
> 
> I hate to have to bother you guys but do you have any ideas? *falls to the floor* I will worship you if you give me anything. One word will do. Help is appreciated, yall.

Kenma was slowly becoming more accustomed to Kuroo’s place. He went over more often than Kuroo went to Kenma’s apartment, and they began fitting into a routine. On the days that Kuroo wasn’t working, Kenma arrived at Kuroo’s place. When Kuroo was working, Kenma made his videos, did his own thing, and just spent some time to himself. 

Kenma decided that his private life and the life he had with Kuroo were both equally important, but they were best separated. Of course, whenever he was with Kuroo, he was able to laugh as hard as he wanted and just have the feeling that he was floating above the clouds with the wind blowing through his hair. Even if they both had nothing to say, the two of them just did their own thing with the other being welcome company. 

However, Kenma still relished the times where he could arrive at his own apartment, flop down on his bed, and stroke Momo, or play games. His PSP was slowly beginning to lose its purpose whenever he was with Kuroo. Even with their occasional silences, Kenma took the time to observe Kuroo. 

Kuroo from far away was already good looking. Anyone could tell that. But up close, right before they shared a kiss, or when Kenma was able to take a close look at Kuroo, Kenma discovered things that only he would find out. Things only he knew. For example, the way Kuroo’s hair covered his right eye. When Kenma brushed the fringe away, Kuroo seemed much younger, much more peaceful. Kenma, for some strange reason, loved playing with Kuroo’s hair. Most of the time, it was unconsciously, without his own self noticing, but when he came to his senses or snapped out of whatever thoughts he’d been in, he could really feel Kuroo’s hair. It may have been weird, but Kuroo’s hair was soft, despite its spiky appearance, it slipped between his fingers and it was long enough to wind around a finger. 

Kenma found tired Kuroo very attractive. When Kenma came to Kuroo’s apartment early in the morning (he woke up at a very early hour most of the time), Kuroo would open the door with a yawn. His eyes would be half-closed and he’d be slouched over, squinting at Kenma. It would be that exact moment when Kenma would be able to reach Kuroo without standing on his tiptoes and brush a kiss across his forehead before slipping past Kuroo into his apartment. 

Kuroo was a very touchy-feely person. And Kenma was, quite obviously, not used to too much contact or cuddling or any of that close stuff. If anyone other than Kuroo or Oikawa pulled him under their arm, hugged him tight and close, and leaned their head on top of his, Kenma would have yanked himself away with a scowl. 

When Kuroo first started getting closer to Kenma, burying his face into Kenma’s neck and murmuring little nothings into his hair, Kenma leaned away. It felt right… but so strange, to have someone so close to him. Kuroo’s face had flickered into hurt the first couple of times, but soon Kenma loosened up and he only stiffened a little when Kuroo cuddled him again. And then the stiffening relaxed into nothing. Then nothing morphed into hugging and holding Kuroo back.

Kenma had always been okay at hugging. He only knew this because when he hugged someone, the person would practically melt in his arms, letting the tension drain out of them. On his volleyball team, he had always hugged his closest friends after a tough match or a disappointing game. The results were always the same. 

It wasn’t very different with Kuroo. The much taller man would melt like putty when Kenma encircled his arms around Kuroo and squeezed gently, rubbing circles into his back. 

“I’m bored,” Kuroo groaned one day at Kenma’s apartment. Oikawa was helping Iwaizumi get ready for university after his week-and-a-half break. Kenma knew that he would have to comfort Oikawa after this, even if the brunette was going to call and FaceTime Iwaizumi as much as he could. 

“What am I supposed to do about it?” Kenma shot back, his eyes glued to his PSP, which he wasn’t really playing on. 

“Ughhhh there’s nothing to doooo. I thought adulthood would be more fun,” Kuroo pouted. 

“You’re just not doing the things that you could be doing,” Kenma retorted. 

“That’s the thing, kitten! I dunno what I’m supposed to be doing!” Kuroo whined, flopping his head into Kenma’s lap, making Kenma sigh and tuck his PSP away. 

“There’s a million things you could be doing. Go to the park. Take a walk. Drive around on your motorcycle and do nothing. Get off my lap. Visit your other friends… if you have them. Help Yamaguchi-san out, since he always helps you,” Kenma suggested, ticking each option off on a finger. Kuroo sat up abruptly and looked at Kenma. He snapped his fingers at him. 

“Excellent idea, kitten. I’ll go bother Yamaguchi,” Kuroo jumped off of the couch. 

“Hey- no! Yamaguchi-san doesn’t need any more stress!” Kenma called, sliding off of the couch as well. 

“Too late! I’m gonna go help that green-haired angel out!” Kuroo whooped, way too happy for someone who was going to work. 

Kenma sighed as he watched Kuroo tug on his shoes and open the door, fumbling with the doorknob for a bit.   
“It’s raining, you rooster head! Take an umbrella!” Kenma ordered, Momo padding out of his room to jump up next to him. 

“You got it!” Kuroo snatched one up, turned toward him, and blew a kiss at him. Kenma raised his hand up and pretended to catch it. Kuroo grinned, a million-watt smile, then slipped out of Kenma’s apartment. 

Kenma sighed again and settled back down, pulling Momo into his lap. He didn’t like rain that much, or he would have followed Kuroo. Then again, he had editing to do for his latest video which, by popular demand, had been his daily routine. He had made sure that Kuroo didn’t come over that day, pretended to be a productive person, and went from his wake-up time to his dinnertime. Kenma had checked and double-checked that nothing in his home was controversial enough to start up a whole uproar, ensured that Momo was in the video plenty of times, and made up a whole fake routine. His fans wouldn’t tell the difference. Besides, he had been quite stuck. Either show them a fake routine, allowing his private life to still be concealed, or back out like a coward. And Kenma Kozume was not a coward.

The gears in his mind started whirring as he carried Momo into his room and settled into his gaming chair. He was going to do something for Kuroo. He’d never gotten to take Kuroo on that second date, and there were far too few dates between them. So at that moment, Kenma had to make up his mind on where to take Kuroo.


	24. Date Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ENTITIES WHATS UP
> 
> I wanna thank all of you who gave me ideas! I am *weird dancing* once again *discos* INSPIREDDDDD
> 
> Alsoooo
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to y'all!
> 
> *pops a little confetti-launcher thing*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want you to know that Oikawa's gonna cry like a little bish when he comes back from helping Iwa chan get packed.
> 
> We all know, Kawa. 
> 
> We all know. 
> 
> also just checking: yall are okay with me calling you guys entities right?

5:34 P.M.

Kenma

Come back at some point rooster and don’t bother Yamaguchi-san too much

Oh and get dressed somewhat nicely

Kuroo stared at Kenma’s text messages, leaning on the counter of Life in Bloom. All he could make out from the texts was that Kenma was apparently taking him somewhere (yes!) and that someplace was a place that he had to dress up for. Whatever, it wasn’t like he was going to wear a T-shirt to a date. Ever. That’d be amateur. 

“Hey, freckles?” Kuroo called into the hallway. 

“Stop screaming, Yamaguchi can hear you perfectly fine,” Tsukishima snapped. 

“Shut up, Tsukki-dude,” Kuroo waved his hand dismissively. Yamaguchi popped his head from the back room. 

“Yeah?”

“You okay with closing up? I’ve got a place to be,” Kuroo told him. 

“Ah! Yeah, of course. Tsukki can help me!” Yamaguchi beamed at Tsukishima, who scoffed but didn’t object. 

“Thanks, freckles!” Kuroo scooped up his phone, keys, and his wallet before dashing out the door. He hopped onto his motorcycle, pulled on his helmet, and kicked off. 

_ What are you up to now, sneaky little kitten?  _

By the time he got home, the sun was already setting. He wondered if Kenma had planned for their little outing to be at sundown. Or was he late? Frantically, he took a glance at his phone. No, he wasn’t late. By his standards, at least. 

He unlocked his apartment door and tugged off his shoes before dashing into his room and flinging open his closet door.  _ Something nice… something nice?  _ Kuroo never really dressed up, and his bro wasn’t here to help him out. It was all up to him now. He took a deep breath and started rummaging through the clothes.

Somehow, ten minutes later, Kuroo was in the bathroom examining his outfit choice. He was dressed in a button-down dress shirt and dark jeans, now fastening a watch onto his right wrist. He stared at his reflection. The reflection stared back, quite nervously. He decided to leave his hair the way it was, spiked up from smushing two pillows against his head. But he did have the decency to run a comb through the locks, smoothing them down slightly. He swallowed hard, sprayed cologne over himself, and ran out the bathroom, getting more nervous with each passing second. Kuroo shoved his phone and other important necessities into his back pocket, then tugged on his worn combat boots, feeling much more anxious than he had anticipated. 

_ It’s just a date. Why are you freaking out, Tetsurou? Deep breaths, deep breaths.  _

_ Fuck you, deep breaths. You’re not working.  _

Kuroo bounced on the balls of his feet before inhaling, then exhaling deeply. Right after he finished two deep breaths, a knock came at the door. Kuroo jumped nearly five feet into the air, his heart pounding as he stared at his door. 

_ He’s picking me up now?  _

Kuroo lurched forward and fumbled with the doorknob before swinging the door open. He blinked down at Kenma. His hair was tied up in a ponytail, a few locks of bleached hair swinging past his face. Kenma’s hands were locked behind his black polo, which was set snugly on top of dark chinos. 

“Hi,” was all Kuroo could say. 

“Hi,” Kenma mumbled, looking up at him through his eyelashes. 

“You look… uh… really good,” Kuroo stammered. 

Kenma cracked a smile, which made Kuroo smile back. The tension between them disappeared and Kuroo had to resist the urge to tug on Kenma’s ponytail. 

“You look good too, for a rooster,” Kenma snorted. 

“Oi! I dress up for you and this is what I get?” Kuroo teased. 

“Oh- and I got something for you,” Kenma fiddled with something behind his back. “You probably know what it means… since… you know.” He slowly brought out a flower, held delicately between his fingers. 

Kuroo’s eyes honed in on the pink rose, and he couldn’t help but think how much more gentle it looked than the dramatic red rose. 

_ Appreciation. Gratitude. Joy.  _

“It’s beautiful,” Kuroo heard himself say when he took the flower carefully, twirling it between his hands. 

Kenma coughed, and Kuroo snapped back to attention. Kenma was now looking at the ground, his face the exact same shade as the rose. 

_ Cute.  _ Kuroo used a finger to tilt Kenma’s chin up. It was starting to become comical, how red and flushed Kenma was turning. Kuroo grinned, almost shyly, and leaned forward to kiss Kenma on the tip of his nose. 

“Kuroo!” Kenma hissed, now a burning red. 

Kuroo laughed, then slipped back into his apartment to put the rose in water. He couldn’t find any more vases other than the one he used to carry the first rose, the bright red one. He felt a pang in his heart as he saw that the rose was now, definitely, dulled and dead. But Kuroo couldn’t complain. After all, he had a pink rose in his hands and he tucked it into the vase, discarding the other, now-browned rose. 

He dashed back to the entrance of the apartment and closed the door behind them, making sure he had his phone and keys. 

“So! Where is kitten taking me today?” Kuroo beamed down at Kenma. 

“You’ll see,” a smile tugged at the corner of Kenma’s mouth, and they made their way down the stairs together. 

“Is it within walking distance?” Kuroo pressed, trying to figure out what Kenma was up to. 

“Yes,” was all Kenma said. 

Kuroo’s hand brushed against Kenma’s as they strolled down the road. Kuroo had the urge to take Kenma’s hand, to hold it tightly, but he wasn’t sure if that was what Kenma wanted. 

Kenma must have sensed his apprehension, since he took Kuroo’s hand himself, lacing their fingers together loosely. Kuroo didn’t bother hiding a grin as he swung their entwined hands between them happily. 

“Where are we going? C’mon, tell meeee,” Kuroo whined, putting on a pout for extra effect. 

“You’ll see,” Kenma said again, scrunching his nose up at Kuroo. 

Soon enough, Kuroo started recognizing the path they were taking. He may have been an idiot, but he wasn’t blind, or stupid. 

“Ah,” Kuroo smiled cheekily. “I guess I do see, now.”

They turned the corner and they got to Yaku and Lev’s coffee shop, the first place the Kenma and Kuroo had been on a date. The quaint place was glowing with a warm light, bright against the dark background of the setting sun. 

“I just thought it’d be a good place to go to,” Kenma cleared his throat, and suddenly Kuroo realized that Kenma must have been just as anxious and nervous as he was. “You had dinner, right?”

“Had it with Yamaguchi,” Kuroo answered. 

“Great. We can have dessert here. I always did want to try that apple pie,” Kenma mused. Then Kuroo was pulled into the warmth of the coffee shop. His eyes landed on Lev and Yaku, the taller man observing Yaku’s every motion, possibly taking notes in his mind. They both looked up when Kenma and Kuroo walked in, then their gazes landed on their entwined hands. Kuroo grinned sheepishly, and Yaku shot him a smirk, Lev still staring in shock. Yaku whisked over to them, wiping his hands on his apron. 

“So,” the brunette grinned. 

“Don’t you dare,” Kuroo shot back, squeezing Kenma’s hand. Kenma had now shrunken back, and without a hoodie to hide in, he looked even smaller. 

There was no one in the coffee shop except for a man sitting alone at a table in the back. Kuroo ignored how the man was staring at him and Kenma, his eyes widened. 

“Table for two?” Yaku prompted teasingly. 

“What do you think?” Kuroo asked wryly. Yaku tsk-ed and ushered them to the same place they had been sitting in the last time they went there. 

“I’ll have an apple pie. Rooster here is most likely going to get a black coffee and probably a blackberry tart. He’s going to try and steal my pie, which is unadvised,” Kenma rattled off before Yaku could give them menus. 

Kuroo and Yaku both stared at him. Kenma looked up to see them gaping, and he immediately leaned back self-consciously. 

“What?” Kenma asked unsurely. 

“How’d you  _ know _ ?” Yaku and Kuroo both asked in disbelief. 

“What?” Kenma repeated. “Oh. Just a feeling.”

“Huh. Well, kitten’s right. I, in fact, will get a black coffee. And the blackberry tart,” Kuroo beamed at Yaku. The brunette scoffed, took one more glance at Kenma, then turned on his heel and strode back into the kitchen. 

“And yeah. I’m gonna steal your pie,” Kuroo smirked at Kenma. 

“Try it, rooster head!” Kenma fired back. 

Kuroo felt a leg kick him under the table, and he let out a very unmanly yelp. He heard Kenma collapse into a fit of giggles and couldn’t help but start cracking up at the sound. 

If they had been paying attention, they would have seen the man at the back slowly pull out a phone and snap a quiet picture of the two of them. 


	25. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HEY YOOOOOO HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO YALLLLLL
> 
> What kind of presents did you guys get? Well, I'm late, but I GOT ONE FOR YOU! THIS LONGER THAN USUAL CHAPTER WOOOOOOOOOOOOO *lame, QuitePuzzledIAm*
> 
> WHATEVER HERE YOU GOOOO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whadduppppp my dudes I've gotten some shock at the last chapter I did *photos* cough cough
> 
> but that comes later ENJOY KUROO'S COMPLETE BLUSH FESTTTTTTTTTTTT
> 
> edit: I realized that I copied some of the previous chapter into this one so I fixed it, sorry if it was confusing!

“Wait… wait, say that again with a straight face,” Kuroo wheezed, clutching his sides as he stumbled along the sidewalk. 

Kenma grinned, shaking slightly himself as well. “I said, I was once dared to wear a cat costume. With the ears, tail, and the very, very revealing outfit.” 

Kuroo burst into hysterics once again, practically crumpling to the ground. Kenma stopped and turned to him, now laughing quite hard. 

“Oh, I wanna see!” Kuroo wiped a tear out of his eye as he straightened up. 

“No,” Kenma shook his head. “You’ll just get horny. I’m hot like that.”

Kuroo choked, then snorted. It was quite a weird sound, and Kenma found that he enjoyed it. 

“Well, since we’re revealing our deepest, darkest secrets, it might as well be my turn now,” Kuroo nodded, tilting his head as if trying to remember something. “Right, Brokuto and I once switched hairdos.”

“Wait- what?” Kenma furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, here’s a picture,” Kuroo yanked out his phone and scrolled through his pictures before tilting the phone to Kenma. Kenma scooted closer to Kuroo to see. Sure enough, there was Kuroo, which his hair gelled up in a strange imitation of Bokuto’s hair. Bokuto had his hair flopped over one eye and the rest of it was in Kuroo’s signature spiky ‘do. The two of them were wearing sunglasses, with enormous grins on their faces as they faced the camera. Kenma figured that Akaashi took the picture. 

“I think the look actually works for Bokuto-san,” Kenma mused. “You look stupid. Not like a rooster head.”

“Hey! Rude, Kenma!” Kuroo bumped Kenma’s shoulder with his own. 

“I’m not used to seeing you with two eyes, honestly,” Kenma chuckled. “When I first saw you, I thought it was some kind of bad hair day. Then I realized every day for you was a bad hair day, looking like that.”

“Now you’re just bullying me!” Kuroo groaned dramatically. “Want me to walk you back to your place?”

“Oh. About that…” Kenma cleared his throat, staring down at his shoes. He felt Kuroo’s expectant gaze on him, and he was becoming very warm. 

“So?” Kuroo prompted gently. Kenma fiddled with his fingers, wishing for a hoodie or something for him to hide behind. 

“Could I… maybe stay at your place? Tonight? Maybe?” Kenma bit the inside of his mouth, swallowing. “If you don’t want to, then that’s fine, too.”

“Of course I want that!” Kuroo exclaimed, hopping up and down excitedly, wearing a bright smile on his streetlight-lit face. 

“Oh,” Kenma mumbled. This was about to be the second time he stayed at Kuroo’s apartment. “So… do I get the couch?”

Kuroo made a strange coughing sound. “Uh- no! You can sleep with me! Wait. Shit, that came out wrong. Um…” Kuroo rocked back and forth on his feet. “I meant-”

“I know what you mean,” Kenma said quietly. “And yeah. I… I want that.”

The two of them walked in comfortable silence back to Kuroo’s apartment. They took the elevator this time, Kenma playing with his hands the entire time. 

When they arrived at Kuroo’s place and they both entered, that was where the awkwardness sank in. Kenma blinked up at Kuroo, who stuttered nervously. 

“Um. You can shower first. I… I have some things you could wear?” Kuroo looked at Kenma unsurely. Kenma rolled the idea of wearing Kuroo’s clothes in his mind, decided that he liked this, and nodded slowly. A look of relief and slight embarrassment flickered across Kuroo’s mind. “C’mon, bathroom’s this way,” Kuroo waved him into his room. Kenma took a good look. The last time he’d been in here, it was too dark to make out any details, so he examined the room closely. There were a couple of flower diagrams on the walls, which Kuroo immediately tried to cover. Shelves on the wall closest to him were covered in trinkets and little toys and figurines. Clothes were shoved into somewhat of a small pile in the corner of the room and the closet door was only halfway closed, revealing more clothing and several bins. 

Kuroo walked toward his closet and flung the rest of it open, examining the interior. After a lot of hmm-ing and looking toward Kenma, he picked out a hoodie and held it out against Kenma’s body. The first thing Kenma realized was that the hoodie was big. Like, extremely big. It wouldn’t even fit Kuroo right. He estimated that it would probably go down to his knees. 

Kenma loved it immediately. He took it gently from Kuroo and buried his face in it, inhaling the faint scent of flowers. He heard Kuroo choking in front of him and he looked up curiously. Kuroo’s face was glowing a violent shade of pink, and he turned on his heel and opened his bathroom door. Kenma shuffled in and looked around. The bathroom was quite ordinary, but there was an abundance of hair product scattered around the sink. 

Kuroo tossed a towel to him, which he draped behind the door, and Kuroo, quite hesitantly, exited the bathroom. Kenma tried to ignore the fact that he was about to shower… in Kuroo’s home… with Kuroo outside. He shook his head, blushed furiously, and slid out of his formal clothes. 

He emerged from the shower dripping wet and he dried himself off before turning to Kuroo’s hoodie. It was a simple shade of gray with a bright splash of neon color on the sleeve cuffs. He pulled it over his head and let it hang to just above his knees. After quite a bit of pondering, he tugged on his boxers too, just for _some_ decency. 

Kenma was glad that he had brought a comb with him today, because now he could attempt to tame the mess that came alive after a shower. He huffed at the frizz and began running a comb through the tangles, wincing occasionally. 

After nodding at his reflection, he tied his rubber band around his wrist and decided to keep his hair down, until he went to sleep. 

He flicked off the bathroom light, picked up his bundle of clothes, and walked out of the bathroom. He made his way to the living room, where Kuroo was sitting, quite stiffly. Kuroo jumped when he heard footsteps, whirled around, and gaped. 

Kenma tried to ignore Kuroo’s gaze on him as he set the small pile of clothes on the arm of the couch. Maybe he was just a horrible fucking tease, but he bent down a little more than he needed to to put the clothes down. Which meant raising his ass to Kuroo. Which meant more of his bare legs were being shown. Kenma tried to hide a snicker as he could practically _hear_ Kuroo blushing. 

“Um. I-I’m getting that back, right?” Kuroo stammered, after Kenma turned back around to him. 

“Hmmm. No,” Kenma smiled sweetly. Kuroo didn’t seem to have a problem with that, since he just nodded, still staring at Kenma. Kenma was starting to feel his self-consciousness kick in, and he shuffled around unsurely. “Uh. Kuroo?”

Strangely enough, Kuroo seemed to relax at Kenma’s worry, which was terribly offending. “Oh. Yeah, sorry. Spaced out there. Just…” Kuroo waved at Kenma’s entire body. “You don’t have pants. And… um. You’re in my hoodie. Nothing wrong with that! It looks great on you! B-but I mean. It’s just-” Kuroo sighed. “You know what? I’m gonna take a shower now.”

He took another look at Kenma, his ears turning pink, and rushed into his room. Kenma laughed, watching him go in such a hurry. 

_Was Kuroo bothered by him without pants? Should he be wearing_ something _more than boxers?_

Kenma mulled this over in his head. Then he decided that he was perfectly fine just the way he was. And Kuroo was going to have to deal with him with no pants. 

Unless Kuroo became horny and fucked him. That would be…

Huh. Strange. The idea of Kuroo fucking him wasn’t… that bad? He pictured it in his head for a moment before clapping his hands over his mouth and turning red. No no no, he couldn’t picture this kind of thing! That was wrong, Kozume. Wrong. 

Kuroo emerged from the bathroom after a while. Kenma thought he must have spent so long in there trying to get rid of the blush on his cheeks, which only deepened when he saw Kenma sitting on his bed. Kuroo was wearing a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, which Kenma thought fit him very nicely. 

“So,” Kenma said, swinging his feet until he was completely on the bed. “How exactly is this supposed to work?”

“You’re not... bothered by the fact that we’re gonna sleep together?” Kuroo asked in disbelief, still standing. 

“Not really,” Kenma shrugged. “We’ve already slept together once. As long as you don’t have sex with me, I’m fine.”

Kuroo sputtered, waving his hands around. “I wasn’t going to h-have sex with you!” Then he paused. “Wait. You don’t like sex?”

“See, I think I would like it. But I just never experienced it. I believe that I’d be horrible at it.” It was only now when Kenma realized that Kuroo was staring at him very closely, his head tilted curiously. Kenma felt the self-consciousness kick in again. _Damn you, self-consciousness._

“Oh. I see,” Kuroo said, his eyes gleaming with something unidentifiable. Kenma immediately felt his heart start racing, picking up speed.

“Uh. Kuroo?” Kenma asked nervously as Kuroo crawled onto the bed, advancing toward him. He didn’t scoot away, though, and before he knew it, Kenma was on his back, Kuroo above him, two hands set sturdily beside Kenma’s head. Kenma blinked up at Kuroo, who was eyeing his neck very intently. “Kuroo?”

Kuroo’s eyes snapped back to Kenma, and a tongue flicked out of his mouth to lick his lips. Kenma felt his heart stutter out of time. 

Then Kuroo burst into laughter. 

Kenma stared as Kuroo rolled away from him, clutching his stomach and full-on cackling. Kenma started laughing too, at the sight of Kuroo just collapsing in hysterics. Soon they were both laughing until they ran out of breath and had tears forming in the corners of their eyes. 

“Ohhh, I got you goooood,” Kuroo beamed at Kenma. They were now both lying down, Kenma curled up toward Kuroo, who faced him. There was a noticeable distance between them, and Kenma had the urge to close it. Kuroo got up to turn off the bedroom light before collapsing next to Kenma again. 

“Not funny, rooster,” Kenma said with a smile on his face. Then they lay there in awkward silence, not knowing what to say. But they didn’t have to say anything, apparently, because Kuroo rolled over until he was on his side and facing Kenma, his eyes flicking around. Kenma got the hint and inched closer to Kuroo. Bit by bit, they found each other wrapped securely around the other. Kenma curled up against Kuroo’s chest and Kuroo cradling Kenma gently, his fingers tracing patterns on Kenma’s back. 

So they fell asleep together, again, warm and tight. 


	26. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whassupp entities! *epic airhorn commences*
> 
> Anyways I've gotten back into Hamilton *not like I ever left* and I'm trying to do Guns and Ships and failing miserably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO YO YO I GOT SOME COMMENTS ABOUT CHAPTER 24 AND OUR PICTURE GUY TOO BAD THAT SUSPENSE SHALL BE KEPT FOR SOME TIME AND YOU CAN ALL FREAK OUT ABOUT IT CUZ IM FREAKING OUT TOO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
> 
> also I cried like a little bish for no reason last night and I feel much better. I'm a messed up person

Kuroo felt himself stir, then he blinked awake, his eyes still squinted. He was comfy. Very, very comfy. As he regained his senses, he realized that he was hugging something. Something small and breathing and warm. He cracked his eyes open even more and was met with quite a sight. He felt his mouth go dry. 

Because Kenma was sleeping. Kenma was sleeping facing him. And Kenma, while sleeping and facing him, was so insanely pretty that Kuroo had to take a moment to just examine the other. 

Sunlight filtered through the blinds and rested on Kenma’s face, leaving a stripe of illumination across his cheek. His eyes were closed gently, and his relaxed face was completely at peace. His lips were slightly parted, and with every exhale, the hair that draped across his eye fluttered slightly. Kuroo, shakily, pushed the offending lock of hair away, causing Kenma to pinch his features together before calming once more. 

Suddenly, Kuroo felt a hurricane of emotions whirling up inside of him as he stared at Kenma. It was unidentifiable and unpredictable, but he didn’t care. This- this feeling inside of him was amazing. He had the sudden urge to kiss every part of Kenma until he laughed and woke up. 

Then Kenma sneezed. Kuroo jumped a bit at this, watching closely to see if Kenma had woken himself up. He didn’t. Kuroo saw the other man curl up slightly, a small shiver running through his body. Panicking slightly, Kuroo immediately wrapped his arms around Kenma again, tugging him closer as he himself shifted more toward the small figure. Kuroo buried his nose into Kenma’s hair, one hand on Kenma’s back and the other cradling the nape of his neck. 

_ Well, shit,  _ was all he could formulate in his mind. 

He wanted to stay here just a bit longer, make time stop so that they could hug like this forever in bed. Just a little longer. 

But Kenma had to wake up at some point, and some point was now. Kuroo felt Kenma squirm around in his embrace, and he, quite reluctantly, scooted back a few inches. He went back to observing Kenma as he woke up. Kenma first scrunched his nose up, which Kuroo had to look away from just to stop a heart palpitation, then he yawned, big and wide. After that, his eyes fluttered open, a clear golden color shining from beneath eyelids. 

Then Kenma saw Kuroo. His entire body automatically stiffened as he stared at Kuroo with something Kuroo couldn’t make out. Kuroo decided to take it slow and he smiled gently. 

“Morning, kitten,” he whispered, holding his breath a bit to not ruin this fragile, unreal moment. 

“Mm,” Kenma hummed. “Why were you staring?”

“Uh-” Kuroo’s mind went blank. He could hear himself saying something that was probably going to be truthful, but awkward. “You’re really pretty when you’re sleeping.”

Kenma blinked a few times, as if trying to comprehend these words before a blush took over the best of him and his gaze landed somewhere over Kuroo’s shoulder. Kuroo was still watching Kenma closely, fascinated by the pink-ish tint that bloomed across his cheeks and settled onto his ears. 

“Don’t say things like that,” Kenma whispered. 

Kuroo tsk-ed. “Why are we whispering again?”

“No idea,” Kenma answered in the hushed tone. 

Kuroo felt laughter bubbling inside of him, and he forced it down. It was too peaceful for his rambunctious and startling bouts of laughing. 

“Time?” Kenma asked, still not looking at Kuroo. 

Kuroo pursed his lips but didn’t turn around to check his phone. Instead, he inched closer to Kenma, which forced the other to have to look at him. They were close now, very close, with only a few centimeters separating their noses. 

“Kuroo?” Kenma breathed out, his golden eyes flicking around on Kuroo’s face. 

Kuroo felt a small smile tug at his mouth and he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Kenma’s gently and securely. 

He heard Kenma hum in contentment, and he felt his hands make his way into Kenma’s hair, gripping the locks with a loose fist. He could feel Kenma’s breaths puffing out against his cheek, and he deepened the kiss, tracing his tongue across Kenma’s bottom lip. Kenma was threading his hands through Kuroo’s hair, playing and toying with the strands. 

Kuroo felt his heartbeat kick up a notch as he kissed Kenma even harder, causing a small noise to emit from Kenma’s throat. He could feel their tongues gliding over each other, it was all warm and wet and Kuroo decided that this was going a bit too far for Kenma, who was now shifting on the bed with uncertainty. So he steered the kiss into more of a soft setting, without the previous fire and needing and tongue. Kuroo pressed one last kiss, slow and patient, to Kenma’s mouth before pulling away gently. 

His eyes blinked open and he saw Kenma watching him curiously. 

“Good morning to you, too,” Kenma whispered wryly. 

Kuroo beamed and he rolled over to get his phone. When he tapped the screen impatiently, he found out that it was 8:30 in the morning.  _ Kenma’s rubbing off on you. You’re waking up early. Kenma, fuck you.  _

“8:30,” he relayed the time to Kenma, who nodded. 

“Wanna get up?” Kenma whispered. 

“Not really,” Kuroo sighed. “But yeah, let’s do it.”

Kenma heaved himself up from the pillows, his hair poking out in all different directions. He stretched, and Kuroo felt his mind go blank as his eyes honed in on how his oversized hoodie was exposing one of Kenma’s shoulders, and how even through the cloth, he could identify the graceful arch of Kenma’s spine. Kenma sniffed, then slid off of the bed. Kuroo shook his head and followed, helping Kenma remake the covers and plump the pillows. 

_ Stick around, Kenma. You’re helping me get into some good habits. _

“Do you wanna use the bathroom first?” Kuroo asked. 

“Sure,” Kenma shrugged, then slunk into the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind him. 

Kuroo smoothed out the comforter one last time before walking to his closet and examining the interior. His heart lurched when he heard the shower turn on, followed by the spray of water. 

Ah, shit. Kenma showered in the mornings? Kuroo felt heat creep up across his neck as he tried to keep some very explicit thoughts from entering his head.  _ Get it together, Tetsurou! It’s not like you’ve never seen someone naked before! _

Kuroo focused back on the closet. He must have been staring at the clothes for a long time, because when he snapped back to his senses, the shower was off. Damn, Kenma was fast. 

“Um… Kuroo?” Kenma called from inside the bathroom. 

“Yeah?” he asked. 

“I need pants.”

Kuroo blinked. Pants? Oh. Pants. He rummaged around his closet before pulling out a pair of too-small jeans for him, but would fit Kenma nicely. He ignored the fact that Kenma would now be wearing  _ two  _ articles of his own clothing and rapped on the bathroom door. It creaked open, and Kuroo stopped himself from peeking inside. 

He held the pair of jeans out, caught a glimpse of a slender, pale arm, and then the bathroom door was shutting once more. 

“I know what you were trying to do,” Kenma said, slightly muffled because of the door. Kuroo swallowed. 

“Sorry,” he said honestly. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“It’s alright,” Kenma reassured. Then the bathroom door swung open all the way and Kenma stared up at him. Kuroo was right. The skinny jeans were pretty good on Kenma. Before he knew it, his mind was thinking,  _ They show off his ass well.  _

He blushed again. 

“Anyway!” Kuroo cleared his throat loudly. “Do you need a toothbrush?”

“Mhm,” Kenma nodded, looking at himself in the mirror. 

Kuroo plucked a new toothbrush from the cabinet below the sink and handed it to Kenma, who took it. 

When it was time for Kuroo to change and use the restroom, he found himself focusing on Kenma’s toothbrush. It was propped up right next to his, one white and one black. They contrasted each other but still fit. Kuroo felt something inside of him swell up as he stood there in the bathroom, grinning like a lunatic as he stared at the two toothbrushes. 


	27. Society

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry
> 
> I will spoil any more of this if I say anything else so imma just shut up now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ouch

It wasn’t until breakfast that their lives turned upside down. Kenma had been quite eager to make pancakes, so Kuroo stepped back and let him do his thing. Meanwhile, Kuroo scrolled through his phone and did absolutely nothing other than occasionally admire how big the apron was on Kenma. 

After a while of peaceful silence, Kenma brought two plates of pancakes over to the island. Kuroo glanced down to see cat shapes. He burst into laughter, causing Kenma to place his hands on his hips indignantly. 

“Hey! I did good!” Kenma pouted, which Kuroo found incredibly adorable. 

“I know you did,” Kuroo snickered fondly, piling syrup and some butter on top of the pancake.

A buzzing sound startled him, making him pour a little syrup than he needed. He cursed, then looked at Kenma. 

“It’s Tooru. Give me a second,” Kenma said, tapping on the phone. Kuroo nodded and turned back to his pancakes. Kenma stepped into the hallway and started speaking. Kuroo only caught a few snippets of their conversation, which was mostly silent. 

Kenma came back into the kitchen, his face white and his body trembling slightly. Kuroo immediately stopped stuffing his face and swiveled toward him. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked after swallowing.

Shaking, Kenma held his phone out to Kuroo. Kuroo leaned forward and stared. The screen showed an article, titled “Kenma Kozume’s Possible Lover?” Intrigued, Kuroo took the phone from Kenma, who collapsed into the seat next to him, staring at the pancakes absentmindedly, burying his head into his hands. 

The article was mainly about a picture. Kuroo’s jaw dropped when he saw a clear photo of them that night in the coffee shop, Kenma’s face broken into a smile and Kuroo laughing, bent over his food. 

His vision swam, and he saw phrases like “YouTuber Kenma Kozume on a date” and “a young man” and “his videos have never said anything about a relationship… especially one with a male”. 

Kuroo saw red for a split second. The article was clearly written by someone homophobic, with the very pointed words about how he was a guy. But he didn’t care about that, he had experienced plenty of hate about that. The thing was, the hate was now directed at Kenma, who was currently curled up in the chair, his face in his hands. 

“Kenma?” Kuroo asked, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. Kenma didn’t answer. “Kenma, are you worried about how these people see you?”

Kenma didn’t make a single sound, but his body gave a great shudder. Kuroo’s instincts kicked in and he scooted closer to the ball that was Kenma. Slowly, he placed a hand onto Kenma’s back and the other underneath Kenma’s knees, then picked him up with a small “oof”. 

He carried the still-curled up Kenma to the couch and sat down, placing Kenma onto his lap. Kenma was forced to come out of his ball, and he stared tentatively at Kuroo. He hadn’t been crying, Kuroo thought with relief. But there was something in Kenma’s expression that broke him, something that made him somber and truly worried. 

“Kenma?” he whispered. 

He waited a whole minute, Kenma shifting around on his lap, not looking at him the entire time. He was about to ask again when Kenma suddenly answered, his voice ragged and hoarse. 

“Being famous isn’t easy.”

Kuroo tilted his head and ran a hand through Kenma’s hair comfortingly, encouraging him to go on. He needed to know. He needed to know if Kenma was afraid, or mad, or sad, or what. This was the downside of Kenma being unreadable. It forced Kenma to talk, something he wasn’t very good at. 

“Everything you do. Everything you say. Everyone you know is put onto a pedestal for the world to see. Unless you hide it,” Kenma said. He took a big gulp, his breathing faltering for a second. Kuroo placed both hands on Kenma’s sides and turned him so that they were facing each other on the couch, curious amber eyes looking into vulnerable golden ones. 

“And?” Kuroo prompted, his hands moving up to cradle Kenma’s face gently. Kenma relaxed just a bit in his hold, rubbing his face slightly on Kuroo’s palms. He took a deep breath before continuing. 

“I need to double-check everything before I say it, when I’m live,” Kenma said slowly. “The idea of people bothering my family, my friends- it’s just- I- Fuck!” Kenma tensed up, his face contorting into one of frustration. He couldn’t talk. But then his gaze met Kuroo’s, who was concerned and listening. This was Kuroo, not his viewers. His brain told him to put a filter on, but he didn’t want to. So Kenma took another deep breath and continued in a clear but slightly shaky voice. 

“Look, I’m forced to hide away anything that shows who I am off-camera. I  _ care  _ about what they see. I don’t like it, but I do it anyway. If I don’t, they start talking about it. They start gossiping, they start judging me,” Kenma rambled, his eyes squeezed shut. He needed to get this out. Kuroo felt a pang of sadness in his heart, with the realization that Kenma wanted to keep him hidden. But why? Why? Fuck them, he liked- loved- this man! Who cared? Instead, he bit his lip and ran his thumbs across Kenma’s cheeks soothingly. 

“It’s not like I care whether they think I’m gay or what,” Kenma’s eyes blinked open and he stared at Kuroo. “I don’t care about that. I like who I want to, the topic of my sexual orientation’s never bothered me, I guess,” Kenma continued carefully. Kuroo nodded slowly, still not understanding. Damn, he was slow. 

“It’s not even you. I… I like being with you. I like when I’m close to you,” Kenma pursed his lips, clearly frustrated with how he couldn’t get his point across.

“It’s okay,” Kuroo reassured, smoothing his thumbs around Kenma’s eyes and cheekbones. “I know what you mean.”

Kenma dipped his head before continuing. “But… after a while… they’ll start coming for you. Asking you questions. Wondering about you, who you are, what you do, where you live,” Kenma’s expression was desperate, pleading. Ah. Kuroo got it now. Kenma wanted to hide him away so that he didn’t have to live the same life that a celebrity did. So that the cameras wouldn’t get to him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kenma shook his head. 

“I need to protect you. I can’t let you go down the same path I’m going down,” Kenma whispered, a tear finally rolling down his cheek. Kuroo raised a hand and wiped it away, pressing his forehead to Kenma’s. He heard their heartbeats together, thumping in time with each other. 

_ Ba-dump. _

“Kenma, you don’t need to protect me. I’ll be fine with whatever happens to me.”

_ Ba-dump.  _

“You don’t understand.”

_ Ba-dump.  _

“Then help me to.”

_ Ba-dump.  _

“I don’t want you to understand. I don’t want you to live this life. I don’t want you.”

Kuroo pulled his forehead away from Kenma’s, staring at him in confusion and disbelief. 

_ “ _ What?” he forced out, his eyebrows furrowing. Kenma’s face was hardened, but his eyes were still wet with tears. Kenma inhaled, a shuddering sound, before answering. 

“I do want you. But I can’t have you. I can’t let myself do this,” Kenma’s body racked with one last shake, then he looked up at Kuroo. Kuroo felt numb, he couldn’t understand, what was Kenma trying to say? “They can’t ever see you. It’ll hurt you, it hurts, trust me.”

“What?”  
_Ba-dump._

“I need to protect you.”

_ Ba-dump.  _

“Kenma, I-I don’t get it!”

_ Ba-dump.  _

“For your own good. For your own freedom.”

_ Ba-dump.  _

“You’re talking nonsense, Kenma, wait- please, we can work this out! Together!” Kuroo was pleading now, trying to hold onto Kenma as tight as he could, keep him here so that they could talk this out. But Kenma was slipping out of his grip, rushing to the door, and turning the knob. Kuroo couldn’t move fast enough. Even if he could, Kenma would leave again. 

Kenma left. Left, without another glance over his shoulder. Kuroo gaped at the door, his body feeling cold and alone and numb as he began to process what had just happened. Then the sadness hit. A tidal wave of sorrow pounded at his insides as he slumped on the couch. He didn’t want to move. He had to take a minute, let it sink in. Kenma was gone. Kuroo racked through his brain, where did he go wrong? Where did it all fall apart?

Finally, he decided that they had never done anything wrong. He wanted to curse, to shout, to sob and scream and cry but he just  _ couldn’t _ . Society. Society took Kenma away from him, it forced them apart. 

_ Fuck society. Fuck them all. Fuck. F-fuck.  _

And as Kenma whisked out of the apartment complex, it began to rain. Good, he thought absentmindedly. The rain could hide that one tear that escaped his hardened façade. 

_ Ba-dump.  _


	28. Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *yawn* im so tired, entities. so tired.
> 
> BUT HERES A CHAPTER AND ENJOY IT WOO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo is dealing with... whatever he's dealing with
> 
> YAMAGUCHI MANNING UP MY BOY
> 
> And Tsukki-dude being a salty little shit like always. Love you, Tsukki-dude.

Kuroo didn’t know how long he had been doing absolutely nothing, feeling this horrible, empty void inside of him. He vaguely remembered that he had dragged himself out of the covers, went through his morning routine in a sluggish daze, and went to work. Yamaguchi had been quite concerned to see Kuroo with red eyes and dark circles. Even Tsukishima had sent him a slightly confused glance. 

But Kuroo didn’t say a word. He slumped at the counter, taking in orders and requests absentmindedly, walking to the back room dutifully. He felt like a robot, purely mechanical without any emotion. Although, his heart gave a lurch every time his gaze cleared and he focused on something. Anything, really. A flower. A mug. A cat figurine. Strange, how all these led right back to Kenma. And that led to everything inside him shutting down again, turning back into a robot. 

Apparently, Yamaguchi had had enough. At 2:00, he scurried up to Kuroo, quite timidly, and took him by the shoulders, spinning him around so they were face-to-face. Tsukishima came prowling a few footsteps behind. Kuroo blinked. 

“That’s enough,” Yamaguchi exclaimed firmly. “What’s up? Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Kuroo looked at Yamaguchi, his antenna stuck straight up and a crease between his eyes showing that he was truly worried. Kuroo answered in a monotone:

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“BULL _ SHIT!”  _ Yamaguchi shouted so loud that Kuroo actually jumped, snapping back to the present. Tsukishima sent a look of slight awe at Yamaguchi, who kept on staring at Kuroo, his eyes blazing. “You’re being a piece of bullshit and if you don’t tell me what is up with you, I’m kicking you out!”

“It’s my flower shop,” Kuroo mumbled. 

“I don’t care! If you’re all mopey and shit, of course I’m gonna be worried about you! Now tell me!” Yamaguchi demanded firmly. 

Kuroo almost smiled. It was quite comical, to see this pure little freckled angel cursing and shouting at him. 

“Yamaguchi’s right,” Tsukishima drawled.  _ Now  _ Kuroo was really paying attention. Tsukishima? Nice? Never heard of her. “He cannot help you if you do not say anything. Tadashi is very convincing.”

Kuroo turned back to Yamaguchi, who still had him by the shoulders. Yeah, Kuroo knew defeat when he saw it. He sighed, letting what was left of his posture evaporate and slumping over, bowing his head and staring at Yamaguchi’s shoes. 

“Kuroo?” Yamaguchi gave him a small shake. 

“Kenma left.”

Oh, how Kuroo hated the feeling of those words in his mouth. He wanted to gargle soap or something. Somehow, saying it brought it to life, brought him back to reality. Kenma left him. Kenma left him. Kenma  _ left  _ him. 

“Aw, Kuroo,” Yamaguchi pulled him into a loose hug. “I’m sorry.”

“Said he was tryna protect me,” Kuroo muttered into Yamaguchi’s shoulder. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Dunno. Don’t care. If he wants to leave,” Kuroo chuckled. “Who am I to stop him?”

Kuroo wouldn’t cry. No, he didn’t really cry. Moan and whine and pout? Yes. Cry? Not exactly. Crying meant that he gave up. Crying meant that he gave in. And Kuroo, deep down, somewhere inside of him, yearned for Kenma. Wanted Kenma back. So he wouldn’t cry, no, not when there was hope inside of him. 

“What are you going to do about it?” Tsukishima asked. See, Tsukishima had this astounding way of turning even a simple question into a sarcastic, snappy accusation. 

“Tsukki! Shut up!” Yamaguchi hissed, finally releasing Kuroo, who straightened up slightly. Kuroo turned to Tsukishima, who was leaning against the wall and looking bored as hell. 

“I have no idea,” Kuroo said with a finality in his tone that made Yamaguchi stop glaring at Tsukishima and making the blonde dip his head, just a tiny bit. 

“Don’t apologize if you have nothing to apologize for,” Tsukishima shrugged. “Just talk to him. Work it out.” Kuroo and Yamaguchi both gaped. It took Tsukishima a moment to realize they were staring at him. “What?” the tall man demanded. 

“Did- did you just give Kuroo advice?” Yamaguchi asked, his voice lilting up hopefully. Yamaguchi’s puppy-dog eyes were a sight to see, and Tsukishima was already flushing red. 

“I’m just stating the obvious!” Tsukishima blurted out defensively, pushing up his glasses. 

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi squealed, running over to said Tsukki and pulling him into a tight hug. Since Yamaguchi couldn’t reach the shoulders, he wrapped his arms around Tsukishima’s waist and buried his face in his stomach. Tsukishima sputtered, reddened, then hugged him back tentatively, patting Yamaguchi’s hair. “I’m so proud of you, Tsukki!” Yamaguchi said, slightly muffled due to the fact that he was still face-planted on Tsukishima’s stomach. 

“Uh- yeah. Sure,” Tsukishima sent something that may have been a plea for help at Kuroo. Kuroo finally smiled. It felt strange, stiff, but he smiled. Then he shook his head. Tsukishima could suffer, it was fun to watch. Tsukishima sent a cold glare at him next, to which he responded with a stuck-out tongue. 

“Tadashi? You can let go now,” Tsukishima cleared his throat. 

Reluctantly, Yamaguchi pulled away, pouting slightly. Kuroo had the urge to laugh, but the laughter died halfway to his throat. 

“Are we using given names now?” Yamaguchi asked hopefully, looking up, up, up to stick out his bottom lip at Tsukishima. 

“Um.” Tsukishima bit his lip. “Sure?”  
“Kei, Kei, Kei!” Yamaguchi parroted, trying out Tsukishima’s name. Tsukishima choked, his pale skin turning a brilliant shade of poppy-red. 

“Shut up, Tadashi,” Tsukishima mumbled. 

“Sorry Tsu- Kei!” Yamaguchi beamed, his smile basically illuminating the whole room. Tsukishima smiled. It may have been a smile, Kuroo had no idea. He didn’t even know Tsukishima  _ could  _ smile. It was a heartwarming sight to see, this tall, lanky man grinning softly down at this excited, freckled, puppy-like guy. 

“So, Kuroo,” Yamaguchi said, swiveling around to stare at him pointedly. “Whatcha gonna do?”

Kuroo thought about this for a moment, mulled it over in his head. Actually, he had known what to do ever since yesterday, but he wasn’t sure he could do it. He had tried every combination of possibilities, examined every outcome, and he was sure that this was the right thing to do. After all that thinking, the answer was quite simple. 

“I’m gonna leave him alone. Give him some time, ya know? Let him cool off a bit. And then,” Kuroo took a deep breath. “And then I’m gonna talk to him. Face-to-face.”

Yamaguchi was smiling at him. “Good. Are you done with your bullshit?”

Kuroo felt a little twinge at his heart, but he covered it with a grin. “Sure,” he lied. Tsukishima was glaring at him. The blonde probably knew that the minute he got home, his bullshit was going to start all over, beginning with bringing Bokuto over. 

  
  
  


Tsukishima was right. Damn, he could see straight through Kuroo’s lies. After a day of wearing a fake smile and pretending to be cheery for Yamaguchi’s sake, Kuroo headed straight to his apartment, climbed the stairs, unlocked the door, slipped off his shoes, and collapsed on the couch, his grin finally wearing off. 

He rolled onto his back, scrolling through his contacts until he found Bokuto. He pressed the call button and held the phone to his ear, waiting for his bro to pick up.

“Hey, BRO!” Bokuto’s voice shouted into his ear. Kuroo winced slightly. 

“Hey,” he cleared his throat. Bokuto fell silent, and Kuroo frowned, shaking the phone as if it was going to do something about the strange quiet. 

“You good, man?” Bokuto asked, concern in his voice. Kuroo sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah. Just wanted to hear my bro’s voice,” he faked a lighthearted voice. Bokuto was dumb, sure, but he wasn’t  _ that  _ dumb. 

“Bro,” Bokuto said seriously. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Kuroo said, much too quickly. He heard Bokuto scoff over the phone. 

“Liarrrr,” Bokuto drew out the word. “Is it Kenma-san?”

“No,” Kuroo lied. “I’m fine.”

“You convince no bros,” Bokuto snickered. Kuroo flipped onto his stomach, lying down on a couch pillow. “C’mon, what’s up with Kenma-san?”

“Just some… issues,” Kuroo mumbled. Bokuto was silent for a while, Kuroo not really minding. Man, it had been a long time since he and Bokuto had a normal-person conversation. 

“Dude, I dunno how to help you,” Bokuto moaned, his hair probably deflating at the thought of being useless to his bro. 

“No, you’re okay. I don’t need any help. Just wanted to talk to you,” Kuroo felt himself smiling, it was strange to be talking like this to his bro. 

“Ah, bro. This is so awkward,” Bokuto sighed after another moment of silence. Kuroo agreed inwardly. “I feel so gross, having a normal conversation and being a normal person.”

“Alright, bro! We can stop talking about my own lame issues,” Kuroo cleared his throat. 

“But… bro?” 

“Yeah, bro?”

“I’m here for you, bro. In case you need anything? Just gimme a call.”

“Of course, bro. Thanks.”

And Kuroo felt him slowly slipping away in their conversation, which eventually turned back to memes and yelling and random nonsense. It was very bro. Kuroo didn’t even realize that their call had been a distraction for himself. He didn’t think about Kenma the entire two hours they were on the phone together. 


	29. Oikawa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OIKAWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
> 
> thats it thats the whole story *mic drop* (and BTS armys, don't try anything. I see you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whadddupppppppppp its ya boi comin at you with a new chapter 
> 
> also would anyone like to join me in beating this picture guy to a fucking pulp for what hes doing to my children? *rolls up sleeves* that mf about to catch these hands. AND I WROTE HIM

Kenma was counting the steps he was taking, all the way back to his apartment.  _ Four hundred thirty-six. Four hundred thirty-seven. Four hundred thirty-eight.  _ The rain just kept on falling, until it turned from a drizzle into a shower into a pour. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wanted to just stop and close his eyes, face the sky and let the rain pound onto him. But he kept walking, counting and counting until he finally stopped at his apartment door.  _ Seven hundred eighty-six.  _

He was seven hundred eighty-six steps away from Kuroo. Seven hundred eighty-six steps away from what had happened and yet there were a million more steps to take until his mind would be at rest. Kenma didn’t let himself cry. Oikawa would just get worried, and a probing Oikawa was one of the worst kinds of Oikawa. 

He took a deep breath and slipped into his apartment. Immediately, right after he took off his shoes, Oikawa came skidding from the living room, his hair a mess and his eyes red from tears. Kenma had come to know that these tears were happy ones. 

“Ken-chan!” Oikawa sang, leaping toward him. Kenma allowed himself to be pulled into a side-hug before shuffling away without another word. “Ken-chan?” Oikawa’s curious voice popped up. 

Kenma didn’t look at the brunette. He turned the corner, stalked into his room, and was about to close the door when Momo scurried into the doorframe. Kenma almost yelled at the cat. Almost. Then he realized what he was about to do, clapped a hand over his mouth, and closed the door gently, forcing the Scottish Fold to have to back away. Once he locked the door, he sank to the ground, his back against the door. He could hear Oikawa’s footsteps and Momo’s indignant mewing, but he ignored them both. Without anything to do, his mind started drifting to Kuroo. He gasped, the sound escaping his mouth, a ragged, desperate noise. Kenma immediately began thinking of anything, anything that tore his mind away from the man. 

“Ken-chan! Ken-chan? Are you okay? I swear to God, I will kick this fucking door down if you don’t answer!” Oikawa shouted through the door. 

“No, no, no, no,” Kenma whispered to himself, curling up within himself, staring down at the space between his knees. 

“Ken-chan! KEN-CHAN!” Oikawa’s voice was rising in both volume and pitch. Kenma shook his head and swallowed. Better to fake it than to have his door kicked down. 

“I’m fine, Tooru!” Kenma called. His voice was thick and definitely too high to be believable, but he was praying now, wishing for Oikawa to just  _ go away.  _

“No, you’re not! You saying that just makes it clear that you’re not okay! C’mon, open the door!” The doorknob rattled and shook, and Kenma stared at it in terror, his heartbeat pounding, exploding at a horrible, breathtaking rate. 

“GO AWAY!” Kenma screamed, the shriek ripping at his throat and causing him to choke slightly. 

Silence. 

Kenma’s ragged breathing was the only thing that broke the quiet. Go away, go away, go away, go away-

There was a sliding sound on the other side of the door. Kenma figured that Oikawa had slid down the door too, and was now sitting against the door separating them. Kenma could feel his hands curling into fists, then uncurling, then curling again. He took a big gulp of air and swiped at his eyes furiously, even though there were no tears. 

“Kenma?” Oikawa’s voice rang out gently, carefully. Kenma whimpered, tugging at his hair nervously. “Kenma, you don’t have to open the door. Just- I wanna talk, okay?”

“Okay,” Kenma whispered. 

“Okay,” Oikawa sighed. “Don’t hurt yourself in there, got it? Now, what happened?”

Oikawa’s voice was soothing, like the calm waves of the ocean, lilting up and down in a comforting tone. Kenma felt his grip on his hair loosen slightly at hearing it. 

“Him,” Kenma gasped out.  _ It hurts. Why does it hurt? Make the hurt stop. _

“Oh,” Oikawa said quietly. “Okay. Did something happen?”

“I happened,” Kenma choked out. “My fault.”

“We all say that, Kenma, it’s alr-”

“NO!” Kenma clapped a hand over his mouth again. Oikawa felt silent immediately before speaking once more, calm and reassuring. Kenma wanted to punch something, break anything, destroy everything. “No,” Kenma repeated. “It’s my fucking fault.”

“I see,” Oikawa mused. “Wanna tell me?”  
Kenma blinked. He had expected Oikawa to storm out and beat Kuroo up (not like he could), or insist that it wasn’t his fault. In some way, he liked this brutally honest Oikawa. Kenma took a deep, rattling breath that shook him to his core and he began talking. 

Oikawa didn’t say a thing the entire time, just hummed and made little noises of understanding. Kenma found the entire scene pouring out of him and he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. When he’d finally finished, he took another deep breath and cleared his throat. 

“I’m not gonna sugarcoat anything, okay?” Oikawa asked softly. Kenma felt himself bracing for whatever Oikawa Tooru was going to say. 

“Good,” Kenma swallowed before squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s your fault,” Oikawa said simply, as if saying how nice the weather was or some other random fact. Kenma, strangely, didn’t feel anything. The words just sunk into him, settled into reality, and hardened. He blinked a few times. “You feel like you’re forced to do this, aren’t you?”

Kenma hmm-ed. 

“Exactly. Which means it’s also not your fault. It’s your fault and it isn’t.”  
Kenma squinted, trying to make sense of Oikawa, but then Oikawa was speaking again and he was listening. 

“It’s your fault for running away. But it’s not your fault for feeling like this.  _ That,  _ you can blame on pressure,” Oikawa said. 

“Pressure?” Kenma asked, his voice small. 

“Pressure,” Oikawa confirmed. “I see it in your eyes, Kenma. Every time you upload a new video. The fear, the paranoia. Everyone, in some way, cares about what people think of them.”

“Yeah,” Kenma said breathlessly. Oikawa Tooru. The only one in his world who could pick up every little detail about his every emotion at all times. 

“I really don’t know what to do,” Oikawa admitted. Kenma felt a small sinking sensation in his gut. “I don’t control your life at all. It’s all up to you. I’ll only be here to guide you.”

Kenma felt the words hit him like cannonballs, penetrating through his skin and causing him to lose his breath slightly. He opened his mouth, his bottom lip trembling. “Th-thank you. Thank you, Tooru.” Kenma wasn’t good with words, but he poured his feelings into those words, hoping it was enough to show Oikawa what he meant. 

“Of course,” Oikawa was probably smiling. 

Kenma rose to his feet, tapping his hand against his side and he unlocked the door slowly with a click. Then he turned the doorknob and faced Oikawa. Oikawa gave him a tiny smile before holding his arms out. Kenma shuffled forward to hug Oikawa back. 

“Oh, Ken-chan,” Oikawa rubbed Kenma’s shoulder. Kenma felt a soft, fluffy thing wind around his legs and he bent down to pet Momo apologetically.

“I really don’t know what to do,” Kenma sighed, his voice pleading and desperate. 

“Hmm,” Oikawa tilted his head, scratching Momo behind the ears. “No one ever knows what to do. Just think about it. You’ll figure it out, I know you will.”

Kenma wanted to smile, but he didn’t quite feel whole yet. However, he did feel much better than he had fifteen minutes ago. 

“Oikawa Tooru, what am I going to do to make it up for you?”

Oikawa shifted around until he was sitting criss-cross on the floor. “You already made it up. Remember?”

Kenma did remember. And he felt his heart smile as the two of them sat on the floor, petting Momo in comforting silence, the sound of the rain not so foreboding and dangerous anymore. 


	30. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *finger guns*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I-I'm done. 
> 
> I can't do these note things anymore I have no more creativity
> 
> BUT I HOPE YALL HAD THE CHANCE TO SEE THE 2020 TURN INTO 2021 ON YOUR PHONES CUZ I SURE DID IT WAS MAGICALLLLL
> 
> HOPE YALL HAD A HAPPY NEW YEAR AND FELLOW ASIANS:
> 
> get ready for chinese new year. feb. 12, my friends.

Two weeks passed by at an alarming rate for Kuroo. With a blink of an eye, he had gone to work and lived in a daze. It was shocking, actually. He didn’t bother texting or contacting Kenma anymore. In fact, he didn’t even go on his phone much at this point. Every time he went to his contacts,  Kenma Kitten 💕 would be staring back up at him. 

He was tempted to just delete Kenma’s contact, but a little voice told him not to, that he had to cling onto hope as best he could. Unfortunately, after two weeks, Kuroo wasn’t really believing that hope would help him anymore. 

Sometimes, Kuroo would just have a breakdown while doing normal, everyday things. For example, just two days ago, he had felt this incredible sadness well up inside of him and therefore, he sobbed like a little bitch in the shower, the water mixing with his tears until he cried himself out. 

But going to Life in Bloom hurt him the most. Everywhere he turned, flowers stared back at him. What he had always thought were beautiful and gentle organisms now turned into ghastly beings, terrible reminders of Kenma’s departure. Still, Kuroo soldiered through it all, gritting his teeth, flashing a smile, and ducking his head when he hurried into the back room. 

Kuroo wasn’t the type to drown himself in his work just to occupy himself. He wasn’t the type to just… get over things, either. So he decided to go to the flower shop every day, just to feel the gut wrenching pain whenever he focused onto a flower. Just so when he got home, he could break down and crumple onto his bed, crying for hours and hours for no reason whatsoever. He arranged bouquets for gratitude, love, friendship, hate, and every time, he knew exactly what the person would want and what flowers would make it just perfect. A bunch of white roses tucked into a wedding arrangement, for the nervous man who was getting married soon. Kuroo gave his congratulations, to the young man’s gratitude. A deceivingly bright yellow chrysanthemum bouquet for the solemn woman with her head held high but her bottom lip trembling. Kuroo walked around the counter and gave her a long, understanding hug, to which she returned slowly, tears flowing down her cheeks freely. The yellow rose, for the giggling schoolgirl who blushed at him furiously after paying. 

Kuroo gave and gave and gave but the smiles that were given back to him, the thank-yous and the bright eyes were worth much more than money and riches. He gave until he felt worn-out himself, but he pushed through until he could give more. He could have created a flower shop and given flowers for free, but he didn’t. Sad, that Kuroo could know exactly what another person needed but couldn’t find out what he himself desired. Kenma? Of course. But how? How was he supposed to do it? Kenma told him that he didn’t want him to hurt, but this  _ tore  _ at him. This, whatever this was, was horrible. 

“Kuroo?” a small voice came from behind him after he finished helping a woman create a daisy bouquet for a friend who had given birth. Kuroo watched the door until the woman walked away, then turned around slowly. 

He heard Yamaguchi gasp quietly. Kuroo frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no!” Yamaguchi paused. “Yes! You look horrible, Kuroo!”

Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows, then Yamaguchi pulled out his phone and tapped on the camera app. He held the phone up to Kuroo and Kuroo couldn’t help but wince slightly. 

His skin was pale and chalky, only a slight tint of color announcing that he wasn’t dead yet. There were purple-blue bags under his tired eyes and his lips were dry and chapped. He licked them unconsciously, turning away from the phone with a curse in his throat. 

“Tadashi’s right. You look like shit,” Tsukishima drawled, loping out of the back room. 

“Kei!” Yamaguchi hissed. Tsukishima stopped in front of Kuroo, looking him in the eyes lazily. 

“What’s up with you?” Tsukishima asked sharply. 

“You know, Tsukishima,” Kuroo could feel something roaring in his ears. “Shut the fuck up. You don’t know what I’ve been through, so stop taunting me and shit-”

“Stop!” Yamaguchi commanded loudly. “Stop it. Kei, shut up. Kuroo, shut up.”

Kuroo slowly took a deep breath before biting back another snappy retort. Tsukishima sneered at him, but it seemed half-hearted. Something in his gold-brown eyes- pity- examined Kuroo. Then Tsukishima slunk behind Yamaguchi, who stepped up to Kuroo. 

“Kuroo,” Yamaguchi said. “You are not okay.”

Kuroo shrugged, letting his head loll on his shoulders.  _ Shit, he was tired. Tired as fuck. Tired to the point where everything was blurring… so dizzy… just… a few… seconds- _

“Kuroo!” Yamaguchi’s voice snapped him out of it and he looked down, his gaze focusing on the terror and concern in the freckled man’s eyes. “Kuroo, listen to me. Go home. I’ll take you back myself, we can close up early today or something. You need to sleep.”

“No,” Kuroo slurred. “No, I’m good.” When was the last time he’d slept? Who cared, no one needed sleep anyway. 

“You’re not,” Yamaguchi said firmly. “Kei, help me out here.”

Kuroo’s vision was slowly blurring again, everything mushing into one big colorful blob. He blinked slowly, feeling a sudden lightness in his head that made him wonder if it would hurt if he fell backwards on the tiled floor right now. 

“Don’t pass out on us,” an exasperated voice sighed as a figure took one of his arms and draped it across a shoulder. He stumbled along, hearing a jingling of keys behind him as he blinked against the sun. It was warm. Very warm. He could fall asleep right here, all toasty. 

“C’mon, Kuroo,” a voice said, steering him down somewhere. Everything was so confusing. Everything… everything was so black. 

  
  
  
  


“So did Iwaizumi-san leave?” Kenma asked, poking the tip of his spoon into his ice cream, Momo beside him on the chair. 

Oikawa let out a dramatic sigh before flopping down, pressing his face to the table. “Yup. And he’s gooooone and he doesn’t know when he’ll be baaaack.”

“At least you can still talk to him,” Kenma reasoned. 

“It’s not the same as having Iwa-chan here, next to me. I wanna hug him. And kiss him. And fuck around with him-”

“Alright,” Kenma cut Oikawa off, feeling red crawl onto his cheeks. The image was burned into his mind now, even though he’d seen it himself plenty of times. 

“So…” a question hung off the tip of Oikawa’s tongue, and Kenma knew exactly what it was. Over the past few weeks, a few of these tones had popped up, slight but distinguishable. And they were all questions. 

“What is it?” Kenma sighed, placing down his spoon sullenly. 

“You. Are. Sad,” Oikawa punctuated each word with an accusing jab of his finger at Kenma, who squinted. 

Frustrated? Yes. Troubled? Yes. Posting videos and turning off the comments? Yes. Ignoring the press and cancelling fan meets? Yes. A coward, therefore? … Yes. But sad? He was not. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kenma sniffed. 

“Ah, Ken-chan,” Oikawa shook his head. “I see the way you look at his clothes.”

Kenma stiffened every time… his name came up, so Oikawa had stopped using it. He wondered what it felt like, to be able to discard something so easily. Kenma blamed his damned feelings. 

“It hurts, doesn’t it.” Oikawa smiled sadly, watching Kenma’s face carefully. Luckily, two could play at that game. Kenma smoothed his expression and kept his words calm and nonchalant. 

“No,” he lied. “It really doesn’t.”

Yes. It really did. Kenma had hung up… his borrowed sweater and jeans on the back of his door, since even he wasn’t petty enough to just destroy them or something. Every night, before he went to bed, he found himself staring at the clothing, wanting to walk over there and wrap himself in them. Preferably, wrap himself in… a certain man’s arms. But Kenma couldn’t. He would not allow this, it was a win-win situation. Kuroo could live a free life and Kenma could try and regain a normal life. So what if the sacrifice was Kuroo? It was the price to pay, and Kenma certainly paid for it, every night, staring up at the ceiling, the quiet making his thoughts turn to Kuroo. 

“Ken-chan,” Oikawa huffed. “I understand what you’re going through. The… connection between you two, at least. I can’t understand a single thing about the… fame and fortune stuff. But I do know what pressure is, and I know that you, my friend, are under it.”

“Uh huh,” Kenma picked up his spoon and stared down at his ice cream, which was starting to form into a cold puddle. 

“Ken-chan, I’m not gonna force you to talk to him,” Oikawa said. “But I wanna let you know that both of you are hurting. Him, too. He’s probably thinking about you right now, a million questions rushing through his brain.”

Oikawa’s tone of voice suggested that this came from personal experience, and Kenma felt his hard mask crumple as he bit his lip until he tasted the tang of blood. 

“I can tell that you were happy with him. Really happy. You came home with a smile and you even said hi to me! And seeing you happy makes me happy, Ken-chan, and my happiness makes everyone happy.”

Kenma bit back a laugh. 

“Just think about it. You have all the time in the world,” Oikawa beamed at him. 

No. No, Kenma didn’t. Sooner or later, Kuroo was going to be tugged away from him again, and Kenma felt like a coward. 

But what could he do? Hide. Run. Anything but have to face those glittering amber eyes again. 


	31. Surrounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WHADDDUPPP MY ENTITIEEEEEESSSS *you can hear my screaming wherever you are*
> 
> I AM BACK! THE GREAT, AMAZING MUSHU! I- dunno how this line goes but DISHONOR ON YOU DISHONOR ON YA COW
> 
> I am back and I've been on a Disney movie SPREEEEEEEEEEEE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back folks to another episode of WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO DO SOMETHING KUROO featuring two new guests: a salt and a puppy, who happen to be epic friends. 
> 
> I- I dunno at this point *sobbing* I'm like the textbook definition of cringe.
> 
> I HAVE RECENTLY BEEN INFORMED THAT KENMA IS KENMA'S FIRST NAME AND I- I- AAAAAAAAAAAAAA *intense sobbing* HOW DO I FIX THIS IVE RUINED EVERYTHING AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUHHGIAJLFKJHGIWU:FOJPAK:FJOVDKLSIJ H:UFN
> 
> WAIT WAIT YALL CRISIS AVERTED I TURNED TO SOME FELLOW FRIENDS OF MINE, TEXTED THEM MY PROBLEMS AND WE CAME UP WITH AN IDEA TO FIX THIS ALSO MOONJAEJAE THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME THIS INFO ALSO I WANNA SAY THAT I THINK A COMMENT FROM A LONG TIME AGO TOLD ME THAT KENMA IS HIS FIRST NAME AND I LIKE BRUSHED IT OFF LIKE A BITCH
> 
> WHEREVER YOU ARE I AM SO TRULY SORRY FOR IGNORING YOU YOU WERE RIGHT AND I WAS WRONG *falls to the ground* PLS FORGIVE ME

Imagine being run over by a garbage truck. And then having three elephants sit on top of you. And then having what’s left of your body thrown off of a cliff and falling for eternity. 

Not only was that Kuroo’s dream, it was how he felt when he startled awake. He banged his head against the headboard twice until his vision finally focused and he discovered that he was in a bed. His own bed. 

_ Fuck. My head,  _ he thought vaguely, wincing as he rubbed the throbbing spot. 

“Kuroo?” a voice called from outside the bedroom. Kuroo blinked and responded slowly. 

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my home?”

“Kuroo! It’s me, Yamaguchi!” Yamaguchi scolded as he entered the room, carrying a tray of food. Kuroo let out an enormous sigh of relief as he fell back against the pillows. 

“What happened to me?” Kuroo asked weakly. Yamaguchi set the tray down on his lap and yawned wide. Suddenly, Kuroo felt like a rather large burden to the man, having to be taken care of and forcing Yamaguchi to do it. Man, this boy was really an angel. 

“You passed out when we got to the car and we brought you back home. We put you down on the bed and you slept for…” Yamaguchi glanced at his watch, “a good fourteen hours.”

“Wait… ‘we’?” Kuroo squinted. 

“Yes, dipshit. We,” a lazy voice drawled from outside the door. “I expect a thank you later.”

“Tsukki- Kei- shoo!” Yamaguchi turned to the door. 

“Fine,” Tsukishima sighed before sauntering away. It was almost impressive how he basically leaked saltiness. 

“Yamaguchi,” Kuroo took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry for having to put you through this, I should be able to take care of myself- for FUCK’S sake, I’m twenty-two! I’m really sorry for making you have to take care of me, I know I’m hardly responsible but you really shouldn’t have helped me, I’m a pain in the ass-”

Yamaguchi burst out laughing. Kuroo watched in shock as the freckled man basically bent in half, laughing his heart out. Kuroo almost felt a smile at his lips. Almost. 

“Kuroo,” Yamaguchi gasped, wiping a tear away. “That’s what friends are for. There to help you, ya know?”

“But Tsukki-dude’s not my friend…” Kuroo frowned. “And he helped me.”

“Consider Kei your personal frenemy. You’ve both got your moments. Although… it is mainly Kei’s fault for a lot of things,” Yamaguchi admitted. They stared at each other for a moment before they both started snickering. It felt good to let out a chuckle, even if it hurt a little bit. 

“I’m noticing a lot of… Kei,” Kuroo didn’t like the feeling of Tsukishima’s given name on his tongue. Maybe it was the overabundance of salt.  _ Kozume would sound better. Would feel better. _

Kuroo chewed the inside of his cheek and focused the attention on Yamaguchi. He didn’t want to talk about why he had passed out. Why he stayed up at night. Why he felt so useless. 

“Oh,” Yamaguchi mumbled. “Well, we’re using given names now, I guess.”

Yamaguchi almost seemed proud of himself, a small smile on his face as he blushed just a little. 

“Ah,” Kuroo nodded. “No more… Tsukki?”

“No. Tsukki will live forever. But… I like the sound of Kei,” Yamaguchi said softly, staring at Kuroo’s nightstand absentmindedly. 

“And I like the sound of Tadashi,” Tsukishima’s voice floated from somewhere in the living room. “Can we get this loser up so he can eat?”

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi squeaked. Ah. Tsukki did live on. “Tsukki, I brought him food already. But I’m very proud of you for considering the loser- Kuroo!”  
“Shut up, Yamaguchi!” Tsukishima’s voice gave away the fact that he was probably blushing. 

“You praise him a lot, huh?” Kuroo observed. Yamaguchi turned back to him. 

“Kei has a lot of admirable things. Once you… kind of accept the worst parts of him, you can focus on the best ones,” Yamaguchi beamed. 

This man. A pure angel. And madly in love with the devil himself. 

“You two are adorable,” Kuroo cooed, resulting in another squeak from Yamaguchi. 

“S-sure? I mean… yeah,” Yamaguchi took a deep breath. “Yeah, we are adorable.”

“Tadashi, you’re still in here?” Tsukishima magically appeared at the doorway. 

“Yeah! You can come join us, though,” Yamaguchi offered, patting the side of Kuroo’s bed where he was perched. Tsukishima leaned forward like he was going to, before making eye contact with Kuroo and wrinkling his nose. Kuroo raised his eyebrows and tilted his head at Yamaguchi, who was making puppy-eyes at Tsukishima. Tsukishima sighed and sat down next to Yamaguchi. 

“Yay!” Yamaguchi squealed, giving Tsukishima a tight hug. Tsukishima hesitated before returning it quickly, wrapping his long arms around the other. 

“Are hugs all… spontaneous like this?” Tsukishima asked once Yamaguchi released him. 

Kuroo and Yamaguchi gaped. 

“What?” Yamaguchi whispered. 

“You’ve… never experienced hugs?” Kuroo asked in shock. Wow. He actually felt sorry for Tsukishima. 

“What? No, only from Tadashi,” Tsukishima squinted at Kuroo. 

“Nobody other than me has ever hugged you?” Yamaguchi’s voice was almost a whimper. Oh boy. 

Tsukishima glanced down and his face paled. Kuroo decided that Yamaguchi was sad, which was a horrible, horrible thing to experience. Mad Yamaguchi? Dope. Happy Yamaguchi? Amazing! But… sad Yamaguchi? Might as well just end the world. 

“W-wait, Tadashi-” Tsukishima stammered. 

“Tsukki’s never had a hug from anyone,” Yamaguchi whispered, tugging at his hair frantically. Kuroo could only watch as Tsukishima started stuttering helplessly. 

“KEI!” Yamaguchi sobbed out as he fell into Tsukishima’s lap. Tsukishima immediately cradled Yamaguchi’s head gently, whispering comforting words as Yamaguchi sniffed. 

Affection was a big thing to Yamaguchi. He believed in it both romantically and platonically very strongly. It was understandable why Yamaguchi was acting this way because even… even salty beanpoles deserved some love. 

“Kei, I’m gonna give you a gazillion hugs for the rest of my life. To make up for the ones you’ve never gotten to experience,” Yamaguchi whispered, after finally calming down. 

“I…” Tsukishima swallowed, not looking at Kuroo. “I would like that.”

Yamaguchi reached up, slid off Tsukishima’s glasses, and kissed him between the eyes quickly before putting the glasses back on and heaving himself off of Tsukishima’s lap with an “oof”. 

_ Ah, love,  _ Kuroo smirked as he watched Tsukishima slowly redden. 

“Do you need a hug, Kuroo?” Yamaguchi asked innocently. Kuroo looked at Yamaguchi. The fuck? Why did this guy even ask? Hell yes! Yamaguchi’s hugs were  _ incomparable  _ on any spectrum or dimension. 

_ Well, there is one person who could rival his hugs,  _ a voice hissed. 

“Yes!” Kuroo said loudly to get rid of the voice. “Yes, I need a hug.”

Yamaguchi clapped his hands together before removing the now-finished tray from Kuroo’s lap and throwing his arms around him. Kuroo saw Tsukishima stiffen slightly, and the blonde man threw him a stone-cold glare. Kuroo nodded, and wrapped his arms around Yamaguchi’s shoulders instead of the usual waist-hug.  _ This… this was nice, _ he assumed.

“Well,” Yamaguchi let out a content sigh after he pulled away. “I have hugged both of you in one sitting. My life’s dreams have been checked off.”

“Wasn’t your life dream to get a dog?” Tsukishima tilted his head. 

“I’M WORKING ON IT!” Yamaguchi declared. 

“Can Tsukki-dude really take care of a dog?” Kuroo asked. 

“Of course! I believe in him!” Yamaguchi beamed. Kuroo almost squinted, the way this

man was shining. “Besides, the dog shall be our child. Tsukki and I will be the parents.”

“I call being the dad,” Tsukishima grinned.   
“Hey! Am I supposed to be the mom now?” Yamaguchi demanded, even though he was smiling. 

“Moms are cool. You’d be a good mom,” Tsukishima admitted. 

“That’s true,” Yamaguchi nodded. 

And just like that, their banter was over. Damn, it was almost funny to see these two fight compared to Iwaizumi and Oikawa. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi seemed more like children, bickering over the smallest things, but in the nicest way possible.

“So next time you see us, maybe we’ll have a dog!” Yamaguchi bounced up and down on the bed. 

“Can I be the uncle?” Kuroo asked. 

“I’m not having a hooligan like you be an uncle to our child,” Tsukishima shot at him. 

“You sounded like a real dad there, Tsukki-dude,” Kuroo pointed out. 

“Kuroo can be the uncle,” Yamaguchi grinned at him. 

“Hey! Where’s my say in this?” Tsukishima complained. 

“In orbit,” Yamaguchi and Kuroo said at the same time, before all three of them burst into laughter. Well, Tsukishima snorted. But it still counted. 

However, laughter didn’t feel the same anymore. It wasn’t fake, that was for sure. But… something was off. Kuroo didn’t know that  _ laughter,  _ an amazing, bubbly thing… could feel off. 

“Hey… you guys?” Kuroo asked. They both turned to him, even Tsukishima, to his surprise. 

“Yeah?” Yamaguchi smiled. 

“I… I told you how I was gonna give Ken-Kenma some space, right?” Kuroo asked slowly. Kenma’s name rolled off his tongue, and he almost sighed happily at hearing it in real life. 

“Yeah,” Yamaguchi repeated. 

“Truth is… I dunno how much space to give him,” Kuroo mumbled. “He doesn’t seem to wanna talk to me at all. What’s the point anymore?”

“Kuroo,” Yamaguchi said slowly. “You can’t just wait for him to make a move. You are Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsurou and you wait for no-hecking-body.”

“Sounds about right. Make the first move. Talk to him first,” Tsukishima chimed in. 

“You can’t keep waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting, waiting never helped anybody with anything!” Yamaguchi declared. 

Kuroo wished he could be as optimistic as Yamaguchi. Hell, he wished he could be as real as Tsukishima. He wished he could be as confident as his bro and he wished he could just- take matters into his own hands like Akaashi. 

But he couldn’t. He was surrounded by brilliant people, but he himself wasn’t brilliant. He was starting to think that that was the reason Kenma left him. Because he wasn’t good enough for someone like Kenma. 

“I’m… I’m at a standstill,” Kuroo muttered. “I know what I’m supposed to do, but I can’t do it. Have you ever felt like that? Like… you couldn’t do anything about it?”

“Of course!” Yamaguchi nodded. “Of course, but I had people who helped me. And you have people who are going to help you.”

“We’re not trying to push you into anything, but any pace is better than doing nothing,” Tsukishima said. 

“Oh,” was all Kuroo could say. “Oh.”

So there they sat in silence, Yamaguchi eventually scooting over to lean against Kuroo comfortingly and Tsukishima moving so he could pat Kuroo on the shoulder awkwardly. Kuroo really was surrounded by amazing people. Which didn’t make sense. Why did he feel so lonely?


	32. Bundle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no spoilers so imma shut up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like i said imma shut up
> 
> also asians, nine days, my friends. nine days until the celebration of the year for us. (well it is for me i dont speak for all of us chinese)
> 
> what kind of dog should yamaguchi get? im thinking golden retriever. or beagle. something tsukki dude is good with :))))

Kenma was done. He was fucking done. He’d worn himself out, trying to ignore Kuroo and leave him out of his life, but he just  _ couldn’t.  _ Every action, every thought, every feeling was Kuroo, and Kenma wanted to pound his head against a wall until the feelings would go away. He wasn’t hurting, which was strange. No, he wasn’t hurting, but he felt a gaping monster inside of him. It awakened whenever he thought about the lopsided hair, the amber eyes that made him dizzy, the kisses, the hugs, the hand-holding. And the monster roared when he recalled the pain in Kuroo’s eyes that day. 

Kenma was done. He didn’t want this anymore, he wanted to vanquish the monster. But how? How was he supposed to do it? If he contacted Kuroo, he was going to put him at risk. If he left Kuroo alone, the monster would eat away at him slowly until there was nothing left, just a husk of himself. He didn’t want to ask for help, either. Bothering people about his own problems always made him feel terrible on the inside. But he wanted to let it out, talk to someone other than Oikawa. Someone who would… hug him and comfort him and hold him to help him kill this monster. Last time he checked, there was only one person who could and was allowed to do that. 

But no. His entire self felt like it was split in half. Ask for help or keep it in? Meet him or leave him? Keep holding on or let go? Do something or do nothing? Choose, choose, choose. Vaguely, Kenma felt like he was in a video game, with choices to make that would lead him down a path he’d never walked. 

“Momo, I need your help,” Kenma turned to the cat, who opened an eye lazily. He plopped onto his bed and pulled her into his lap. “Momo, I don’t know what to do.”

Momo tilted her head curiously, blinking inquisitively. She chirped. 

“Yeah. Remember K-Kuroo?” Kenma asked, trying to ignore the way his heart fluttered when he said the name. Momo might have nodded. Maybe. He was hallucinating now. 

“I never told you… but…” Kenma sighed. “I messed up real bad. That was why I kinda freaked out.”

Momo pawed at his hair and he continued. 

“You know how I’m a YouTuber, right? When I make those videos and talk to the camera?”

Momo gave a small meow, possibly remembering how she always stole the show whenever he recorded. It had been two and a half weeks since Kenma’s last video. He got messages from his editor, questions from anyone and everyone. He ignored them all, ignored the articles and the rumors and he felt like it was going to solve the problem. He was wrong. 

“So Kuroo and I… we’re kind of…” Kenma trailed off. He really didn’t want to say it. Momo mrrow-ed and Kenma nodded. “Yeah. That. We’re that. And I, God, I dunno. I miss him. A lot. It hurts, Momo.”

Momo rubbed her cheek against Kenma’s chin, and he pet her head. “I want it to stop now, Momo. I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

Momo shot him a glare and batted at his face gently. “Ow- Momo?”

Momo leapt off of his lap and stalked to the door. She glanced up at Kuroo’s clothes, still hanging there, and looked back at him, her tail swishing. “Momo?” Kenma asked. 

The cat rose up on her two hind legs and pawed at the clothing, tugging at it with her claws. Suddenly, Kenma heard a horrible  _ riiip.  _

“MOMO!” Kenma shrieked, tumbling off the bed and scrambling to the clothes. “Momo, bad girl!”

Momo just yowled, prancing away. Kenma sighed as he examined the gashes in the hoodie. They weren’t too bad, but they were still noticeable. He cursed Momo inwardly and bundled up the clothing. Sadly, Kenma and Oikawa both didn’t know how to sew. And he was ready to bet that Momo didn’t either. 

_ What the hell, Momo? Why? What? Little shit,  _ he thought furiously as he hugged the hoodie to his chest, not thinking. He buried his nose in it, inhaling the faint scent of Kuroo’s familiar cologne and an earthy smell. 

_ It would feel nice to just… curl up in it. And fall asleep next to his hoodie,  _ Kenma thought. 

_ NO! Wash it, get rid of the smell!  _ Another voice hissed. 

_ Keep it,  _ the first voice crooned.  _ Maybe it could be an excuse to see him. Tell him that you ripped it, you’re sorry, and leave. Just see him one last time.  _

Kenma perked up slightly. That  _ was  _ a good idea. He would leave immediately after giving the hoodie and jeans back. Don’t say anything to him. He nodded to himself, threw all remaining doubts out the window and slipped on a jacket. 

He was halfway to the door when a voice stopped him. “Going to see Kuroo?” Oikawa slid up behind him in his socks and wrapped two arms around Kenma. “I’m so proud of you, Ken-chan.”

“I’m just giving it back to him,” Kenma muttered. 

“Uh huh,” Oikawa said in a suggestive tone. 

“I’m going now,” Kenma shrugged out of the hug. 

“And if that bitch hurts you, I’ll hurt him back!” Oikawa called after him as Kenma slipped on his shoes and opened the door. 

“I’d like to see you try,” Kenma shot back, then exited his apartment, hugging the clothes to his chest as he shivered in the slight breeze. He started down the stairs, tucking the bundle to his side so he could see the way properly. 

He found himself immediately starting for Kuroo's place, as if his feet had been waiting for this day. With every step, he started to panic. What if Kuroo didn’t want to see him? What if this was wrong? What if someone saw? Kenma halted in his tracks and let out a shaky breath, staring down at the clothing in his arms. 

Yeah. Yeah, he was going to turn back. He was going to go back and stay inside, safe and alone.

Kenma turned. 

Well, he did in his mind. His body didn’t move an inch. He tried again.

“Damn it,” he gritted his teeth and willed his feet to move. They stayed planted on the sidewalk. “Damn it, damn it, damn it,” Kenma repeated. 

He sighed and stopped trying to turn back. Kenma hung his head and faced back in the direction where Kuroo’s apartment was. “Damn it,” he whispered weakly, a breeze ruffling his hair slightly as he stared, the directions to the apartment carved into his mind now blazing up, lighting his way. 

Kenma let out a long groan before beginning to walk the familiar route, dragging his feet along. He took his time, kicking rocks and keeping his head low until he finally reached the apartment. He stared up the side of the building and made out where Kuroo’s place was, the window just like the others but somehow different. 

“Get this over with,” he muttered to himself, then clenched his fists into the hoodie and jeans and stormed to the stairwell. Every step he took seemed to slow down as he began to climb up, his leg getting heavier and heavier until he couldn’t walk anymore, panting and frustrated. 

Still, Kenma pushed on. He stomped up the rest of the way, not sure why he was so riled up, and he stopped right in front of Kuroo’s door. He was sweating now, biting his lip, tapping his feet, and swallowing. He stared at the wood, his eyes flickering over the surface, examining every crack and whorl. 

He felt his face contort into a helpless grimace. “Fuck,” he forced out, bouncing on his feet as his heart pounded inside his chest. Kenma gripped the bundle of clothing until his knuckles turned white and his fingers hurt, then he, trembling and breathing hard, raised a hand. He stopped centimeters from the door. Then he bit his lip, the white-hot pain flashing before his eyes, and he stumbled forward. His knuckles made contact with the door and he rapped quickly. 

Kenma regained his balance and stared in horror at what he just did. He had never felt terror like this, never felt panic or doubt like this before. He licked his lips and clung onto the bundle of clothes as if it were going to save him. 

It had been a minute. Two minutes. Five. Kenma felt his heart slow down, and he let out a ragged breath of relief and… sadness. Whatever. He whirled around and walked to the stairs, each step like a bullet fired at his heart. 

Then he heard the door open behind him. 

Kenma felt a gasp rip out of his chest, and he swiveled around so quickly that he almost lost his balance. And there, standing there in his pajamas, was Kuroo Tetsurou. Kuroo’s eyes widened and his lips were parted in something like shock. Kenma heard a short sob-laugh sound come from deep within him, and he felt his vision sway. 

Kuroo Tetsurou. His amber eyes blinking rapidly, the eyes that looked not at Kenma, but into Kenma. 

Kuroo Tetsurou. His lips, that Kenma had kissed again and again, soft and sweet. 

Kuroo Tetsurou. His strong arms that were oh-so gentle when they held Kenma, rocking him back and forth in a comforting sway. 

Kuroo Tetsurou. The very person that Kenma had ruined. 

“Kenma?” Kuroo whispered. 

Kenma didn’t say anything. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would never stop apologizing, never stop talking. So when he finally mustered up the strength to talk, he swallowed and blurted it out. 

“Momo ripped your clothes. I’m here to return them. Sorry,” he cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he repeated. 

Kuroo was still gaping, and Kenma lurched forward. He shoved the clothes into Kuroo’s arms and turned on his heel, his heart beating at a million miles per hour.  _ Go. Go now.  _

So Kenma went. He felt his feet fly across the ground as he raced down the stairs. He was almost sad to not hear Kuroo’s footsteps after him as he dashed out of the apartment and into the sidewalk. He took an enormous breath of air, gulping it down, before he realized that he felt extremely cold without Kuroo’s bundle of clothes in his arms. But he ignored it. Kenma trembled there in the wind for a moment, feeling like he was about to faint, then he shook his head, hair flying into his face. 

Then a hand wrapped around his arm, tight. 

Flashes, horrible things flew through his mind. A crooked smile. The drunken smell. The feeling of a wall on his back and a terrible hand caressing his cheek in a manner of fake gentleness. Kenma couldn’t help it. He screamed, not seeing anything as he wrenched himself out of the grip. He screamed and screamed and screamed in the street, screamed until he grew hoarse. Still, he screamed. 

But just like that day, he couldn’t move. He just sunk to the sidewalk, sobbing and shrieking and choking. He could hear a voice, familiar and frantic, somewhere near him, but he stumbled away, falling onto his knees as he tried to run. He needed to go, he needed to leave, he needed to RUN. 

Kenma could feel tears pouring down his face, hot and fast, as he sobbed with his eyes squeezed shut, shaking his head as he tried to get the memories out. Dark alleyways. Cornered. Press. Media. Cameras. Trapped. Spotlights. 

Kenma screamed and screamed and screamed, he didn’t care who heard him, he didn’t care about anything. He could feel two strong arms wrap around him, but he lurched away. He didn’t know how long it had been, he didn’t know what was happening. Everything was just a big blur everywhere he looked, bright lights and pops of white color. 

Suddenly, someone scooped him into a tight ball and hugged him so tight that Kenma stopped screaming. He, instinctively, inhaled the familiar earthy- cinnamon scent as he hiccupped, clawing at the thin shirt. 

“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, I got you,” a low but kind voice murmured next to him. 

“Kuroo,” Kenma choked out. “Kuroo, help me.”

“I will, it’s okay,” Kuroo whispered. Kenma could still feel tears sliding down his face, but he didn’t bother wiping them away. He just let it all out, silently, as he was rocked back and forth on the sidewalk in Kuroo’s arms. 

He felt himself being lifted up, felt clothes being piled up as a sort of blanket around him, but he couldn’t see anything. Everything just looked like flashes of light. Until Kuroo tilted his head, gently, so that he looked straight at him. 

Kenma felt his vision focus as he stared at Kuroo, hiccupping and trembling and crying. 

“Kenma…” Kuroo mumbled, hugging him even tighter as he continued up the stairs. 

Kenma could feel more tears threatening to spill out, and he let them as he sobbed. Kuroo carried him all the way back into the building, stopping at the apartment door as he fished around for a key. Kenma felt his body being shifted as Kuroo held him with one hand, using the other to unlock the door. He stumbled in, kicking off his shoes and swinging the door shut behind him. 

Kenma took a deep, rattling breath, taking in the familiar scent of that earthy smell and vanilla. Kuroo walked to his bedroom and placed Kenma onto the mattress, wrapping the comforter around him, along with the ripped hoodie and jeans. Then Kuroo held the entire bundle of cloth, rocking Kenma back and forth as Kenma continued to weep and wail and gasp. Kenma cried himself out until he had no more tears left, and even then, he continued to sniffle and choke. 

“Kenma?” Kuroo’s voice just barely brought him back to reality. Kenma whimpered. “Kenma?” Kuroo was talking in a slow, tentative tone. A hand burrowed through the blankets and stroked Kenma’s hair. Kenma let out a sigh and he sniffed, blinking away the tears. 

Kuroo’s face appeared in his line of sight, and Kenma realized that he must have looked like a whole mess. Tears and snot and flushed cheeks, hair in his face and rolled up in a pile of fabric. 

“Do you wanna stay in there?” Kuroo asked. 

“Yeah,” Kenma swallowed. His voice was thick and stuffy, and he couldn’t breathe very well, but in the blankets and the clothes, he felt some form of safety. Safety… away from that memory. “Tetsurou,” he murmured, not really thinking. 

There was a long silence, and Kenma didn’t really care. Kuroo’s name rolled off the tongue, the syllables clear and sharp. 

“Kozume,” Kuroo finally said. 

Kenma blinked. 

“Huh?” Kenma squinted past his tears. 

“Um,” Kuroo stuttered. “We’re using given names, aren’t we?”

Kenma wanted to laugh, but he settled for a snort. He was too tired to laugh. “Kenma  _ is  _ my given name, Kuroo.”

“What?” Kuroo’s confusion caused Kenma to snort again. “Wait… what?”

“I don’t like all the formal stuff,” Kenma sniffed. 

“So… I’ve been calling you by your given name all this time?” Kuroo asked in a hushed voice. Kenma nodded, the pile around him moving with him. “I thought it’d feel different. It just feels… natural.” A weight to Kenma’s left leaned against him, and Kenma leaned back. 

“Tetsurou feels natural too,” Kenma sighed. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, one last tear falling and rolling down his cheek, following the path of the hundreds he had already shed. “Look. Kuroo, I’m s-”

“I know,” Kuroo interrupted gently. Kenma closed his mouth. “I am too.”

And that was that. They would have to talk much more after that, but a heavy weight lifted from Kenma’s shoulders. Something told him that it was really going to be okay, with Kuroo relaxed against his bundle of cloth. Kenma was exhausted. He was warm too. And cozy. And safe. So he kept his eyes shut and sighed again, his lips curling into a genuine smile. 

If he had stayed awake a bit longer, he would have felt Kuroo lean forward and brush a soft, delicate kiss against his forehead, a flickering smile on the other man’s mouth as well. 


	33. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HELLO IM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY ON THIS CHAPTER SCHOOL STARTED AGAIN AND IM DYING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whadduppp entitieessssss enjoy new chapter pls and make sure to vibe out today! *intense vibing*
> 
> not me counting the days till cny
> 
> real random but what kinda movies do you guys watch?

Kenma felt horrible. His eyelids felt like they weighed a million pounds each, and he was cold. Well, there was a blanket over him. It took a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings and see where he was. He was on one side of Kuroo’s bed, the bundle of blankets finally gone and now tucked around him neatly. 

It was five in the morning. Kenma assumed he had a personal alarm clock that forced him to wake up early, no matter what time he went to sleep. Sleep… oh yeah. Everything from yesterday flooded into his head and he took a minute to just stay where he was, bundled up and alone. 

Alone?

Kenma rolled onto his side and found himself face-to-face with Kuroo’s back.  _ Huh?  _ He felt like pouting, but there was no point in pouting if no one could see it. He stared at the back of Kuroo’s head, which was covered in the same spiky locks as the fringe in his face. Which wasn’t facing Kenma. Why wasn’t Kuroo doing the usual? Hugging him, holding him-

And every single thing that happened yesterday really hit him. What he had done. How Kenma had reacted. Call him petty, but Kenma rolled back onto his side and huffed. Two could play at that game. He brought the comforter up to his face and breathed in deeply. 

“You up?” Kuroo’s voice was gravelly with sleep. Kenma didn’t look back. 

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“You feelin’ better?”

“Still tired.”

“I imagine,” Kuroo chuckled. Kenma wondered if Kuroo had hurt that much, and felt like Kenma when he woke up, all drained from the events prior to sleep. He needed to apologize, no matter what Kuroo was going to say. 

“Look,” Kenma blew a strand of hair out of his face. “I’m sorry.”  
“I feel like you don’t really mean it,” Kuroo’s tone was a bit snappy, but Kenma bit back a retort. 

“Then why am I in your bed?” Kenma fired back. 

Kuroo and Kenma stayed silent for a long time, nothing but their breathing breaking the quiet. Kenma was fully awake now, but he stayed curled up in the blanket. He felt Kuroo’s legs shuffle around behind him. 

“Because I gave up hope a few days ago,” Kuroo finally said. His voice was quiet and calm and Kenma felt terror spike inside of him. No, no, no, he couldn’t lose Kuroo now. 

“I’m here now,” Kenma said, quite lamely. 

“Yeah. With a bundle of clothes and crying on the sidewalk. I… I dunno what to say, Kenma,” Kuroo sighed, a heavy, sad sound. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I really am,” Kenma was starting to plead. “I know you can’t forgive me, but please, please know that I am actually sorry. No sarcasm.”

“I know you’re sorry. I want to forgive you. But… but how could you throw everything like that?” Kuroo asked, his voice still level. Kenma clenched his jaw. 

“You don’t understand, do you?” he whispered. “Nobody but Tooru and Iwaizumi-san knows that I’m gay.”

Kuroo cleared his throat. “So this guy outed you?”

“Yes,” Kenma snapped. “But you don’t understand.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna understand if you keep snarking me,” Kuroo’s calm tone had taken on a sharp edge. Kenma didn’t care. 

“Look, I left because I needed to protect you,” Kenma shot. 

“No,” Kuroo was beginning to raise his voice. “No, you left to protect your dignity.” Kenma opened his mouth, but nothing would come out. He ended up closing it. “Are you ashamed of being gay or something?” Kuroo whispered. That was it. Kenma felt his blood boil and his fists clenched. 

“Let’s get one thing clear. I am not ashamed of who I am,” Kenma hissed. 

“Then why are you ashamed of who sees you?” Kuroo asked sadly. 

“I am not ashamed of who sees me,” Kenma’s nostrils flared and he pursed his lips. 

“So why did you leave?” Kuroo questioned. Kenma didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. Kuroo let out a small chuckle. “I see. You  _ are _ ashamed. Of me.”

“Of myself,” Kenma corrected. 

“Good,” Kuroo spat. “Good, you have no idea how much it hurt.”

“I have every idea of how much it hurts,” Kenma snapped. Every sense of comfort, every sense of peace from yesterday had evaporated. The tension between them on the bed buzzed with anticipation. Just one wrong move and it would explode. Kenma didn’t care anymore. “I’m leaving.”

“Do it,” Kuroo said quietly. “It’s what you wanted to do yesterday.”  
Fuming, Kenma kicked off the comforter and swung his legs over the bed, storming out of the room. He didn’t look behind him. Kuroo didn’t look either. Kenma yanked his hair into a messy ponytail, tugged his pants on (which Kuroo had taken off for him yesterday before he went to sleep), and snatched up his phone and keys. He was already wearing the hoodie from yesterday, and he glared at the ripped hoodie and jeans on the couch as he tugged on his shoes more violently than necessary.

Kenma took a deep breath, chewed the inside of his mouth, and turned around slowly. He could see the dark lump that was Kuroo in the bedroom. Kuroo didn’t turn around. Kenma stared daggers at the lump before whirling on his foot, stomping to the door, pulling it open, and leaving. 

He stalked all the way down the stairs, squeezing his phone so tight that he thought it was going to burst or send sparks flying. Kenma didn’t look at anyone, anything as he marched all the way back. In the back of his mind, he figured this was all ridiculous. He should have turned back, talked it out, thanked Kuroo, apologized, tried again and again. 

But anger changed people, and it changed Kenma now. Kenma didn’t focus on anything but the way his foot slammed onto the pavement with each step, and coming with colorful curses in his mind to call Kuroo. He was so focused that he shoved the sadness, the pity out of his mind and mentally forced the tears to not fall. 

For a brief second, Kenma saw red. He saw horrible things, he wanted to laugh at Kuroo’s pain. He felt a hysterical chuckle bubble up inside of him, and he almost let it out. Then he paused in his tracks, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to process what he just felt. He bit back the crazy laughter and swallowed, slightly scared of himself now. 

Wait. Where was he?

Kenma looked around, hair whipping into his face as the rubber band snapped.  _ Damn it.  _ Kenma sighed and pulled on his hood, trying to tuck the hair away. He was surrounded by buildings, buildings he didn’t know. Kenma ignored the pang of fear inside of him and looked behind him. Apparently he took a wrong turn somewhere back there… then he would just go back. Easy. 

Kenma nodded to himself and started walking, occasionally throwing a glance over his shoulder. There was no one around. Okay, now the fear inside of him grew just a little bit. He pulled out his phone and let out a huge breath of relief as he saw that he had connection. Kenma hugged the device close to his chest and started walking a little faster, glancing around in confusion. 

Where was this place?

He was lost. Terribly lost. He didn’t even know where he was. Kenma didn’t hesitate in tapping on Oikawa’s contact and holding the phone to his ear. It rang once. Twice. Three times.  _ C’mon, Tooru,  _ Kenma thought furiously, tapping his foot as he looked around. 

“Ya-hoo!” Oikawa’s voice came through the device. Kenma took a deep breath, cradling the phone. Thank God. 

“Tooru,” Kenma swallowed. “I don’t know where I am.”

“Huh? Ken-chan is lost?” Oikawa asked.

“Yes. Can you come get me?” Kenma chewed his lip. 

“Of course!” Oikawa beamed. Kenma almost scoffed. Oikawa’s ability to somehow always be annoyingly optimistic finally came in handy. Kenma could feel himself relaxing a little. It was all okay now. “Where’s the last place you went?” Oikawa questioned. 

“Kuroo’s,” Kenma said shortly, pleading for Oikawa not to probe more. Luckily, all Oikawa did was hum a little. 

“I’m going now,” Oikawa reassured. 

“Thank you, Tooru,” Kenma sighed. 

“Lost?” a voice from behind him asked. Kenma yelped, then dropped his phone. He whirled around and looked up to see Kuroo. The other man’s head was tilted, his amber eyes not blazing or angry. His hands were in his jacket pockets quite calmly. 

“I’m fine,” Kenma sniffed. He picked up his phone with what dignity he had left and winced at Oikawa’s shrill voice. 

“KEN-CHAN! KEN-CHAN, DON’T BE DEAD!” Oikawa shrieked. 

“No,” Kenma said, still watching Kuroo carefully. “No, I’m okay.”  
“Oh. Good. I’m gonna come get you now!” Oikawa said. 

“I can take you back,” Kuroo blurted. Kenma squinted at him. He was about to hit him with a hard “no”, but then he remembered that Kuroo had basically saved his life twice now. Begrudgingly, Kenma nodded. 

“I’m fine,” Kenma said into the phone. 

“Huh? Are you sure?” Oikawa asked, concerned. 

Kuroo tilted his head to the side. Kenma leaned to the side to see a familiar motorbike, two helmets perched on the seat. He looked at Kuroo again. 

Kuroo didn’t look sorry whatsoever. Of course, Kuroo wasn’t the one who should have been sorry. Instead, he looked calm, confident, and he stared at Kenma with such an intensity that Kenma swallowed. The gaze was also what pushed all Kenma’s doubts away.

“Yeah,” Kenma said, sure. 

“Alright,” Oikawa chirped. “Call me if you need help.”

“Yeah, Tooru. Bye,” Kenma said. 

“Bye-bye!”

A beep signaled the end of the call. Kenma tucked the phone into his pocket and held his head a bit higher, making eye contact with Kuroo. Kuroo pulled out something from his own pocket and held it out to Kenma. Kenma looked down at the two flowers. 

The contrast was incredible, one stark-white and perfect, the other familiar and bold, red and eye-catching. The red rose, Kenma knew this one. 

“This one,” Kuroo said softly, raising the white flower, “is a white tulip. It means… apologies and forgiveness, and new beginnings.” Kenma took a deep breath, and held the flower in his hands gently. “You already know this one,” a small smile tugged at Kuroo’s mouth as he held up the rose. 

“Red rose,” Kenma nodded. 

“Red rose,” Kuroo confirmed, swallowing. Kenma tilted his head. Kuroo seemed nervous. Too nervous. Which made Kenma nervous. “Red rose, because I don’t wanna lose you again. You’re one of the best things to happen to me, Kenma. I… I don’t wanna ruin that.” Kuroo ran a hand through his hair. “Stay with me?”

Kenma felt like a tidal wave just pounded into his body. He rocked back on his feet for a moment before regaining his balance. Kenma stared at the rose. He plucked it from Kuroo, admiring the way the tulip and the rose fit together. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, and he poured everything he couldn’t say into the two words. He apologized for his pettiness, his fear, leaving Kuroo, being a burden, everything that made him a hard person to be around. And he let it out in two words. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Kuroo dipped his head, scuffing his shoes on the road. 

“Can I stay with you?” Kenma asked, gripping the two flowers, holding his breath and staring at Kuroo, not blinking.

“Yeah,” Kuroo breathed. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Kenma stepped forward and looked at Kuroo, who now raised his head to look at him. Kenma was shocked he didn’t realize this, but something about Kuroo made him beautiful. People would see a messy-haired, scruffy young man with peculiar eyes, and that’s what Kenma had thought at first as well. But now, as he watched Kuroo, he was hit with the fact that Kuroo was perfect. He had his flaws, yes, but so did Kenma, and Kuroo’s flaws only made him more human, more amazing. 

“Pretty,” Kenma whispered. Kuroo’s lips parted and his amber eyes softened as he gazed down at Kenma. “Kind. Humble. Happy.”

A slow blush was starting to creep its way around Kuroo’s cheeks, but Kuroo didn’t break his stare as he swallowed. 

“Forgiving. Gentle,” Kenma took a deep breath. “Lovable.”

They were close enough to feel each other’s breaths, quick and warm, Kuroo’s hands fluttering around at Kenma’s sides. Kenma wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s waist and hugged him, his face pressed against Kuroo’s stomach. Kuroo let one hand rest at the nape of Kenma’s neck and one at his back, resting his head gently on Kenma’s hair. 

“Thank you,” Kuroo hushed. 

Kenma rubbed his cheek against Kuroo’s stomach. “Thank  _ you.” _

Kenma pulled away slowly and looped his arms around Kuroo’s neck, pulling the other man down slightly. Kuroo’s arms tightened around Kenma’s back, their stomachs pressed flush against each other. 

“Can I?” Kuroo’s voice was so quiet, so soft that Kenma leaned in a bit to hear it. 

“Yeah,” Kenma whispered. “Go ahead.”

Kuroo leaned down without hesitation and kissed Kenma firmly, his eyes fluttered closed. Their previous kisses had always been short and soft, or heated and quick, but Kenma decided that he liked this one the best. It was secure, it made his head spin and made him feel like it was just the two of them in the entire world. Kenma tousled the hair at the back of Kuroo’s head, running his fingers through it and threading through the locks. 

It seemed like an eternity, they could have been in space, or the bottom of the ocean for all Kenma cared. All he was focused on was Kuroo, only Kuroo, as he rose on his tiptoes to push one last kiss onto Kuroo’s lips before leaning away. Kuroo grinned, and Kenma felt his heart pitter-patter as he brushed his fingers over Kuroo’s lips. 

“That was overdue,” Kuroo chuckled. Kenma nodded. He felt much more confident, more comfortable around Kuroo. He held the flowers delicately, careful not to ruin them. “C’mon. We have a lot to talk about.”

Kenma nodded again and slipped his hand into Kuroo’s, holding the flowers in the other. Kuroo brought their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed the side of Kenma’s palm. Kenma couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bursting out of his mouth like it had been held in for much too long. He squeezed Kuroo’s hand and let their arms swing back and forth as they strolled back to the motorbike. It was sloppy, their whole reunion. But it was, in a way, just fine. They said what they needed to say, and that was all that mattered. Kenma felt like the gaping hole inside him had finally been filled neatly. 


	34. Global

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I WAS JUST CALLED AUTHOR CHAN-
> 
> ITS SO CUTE OMG
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR CALLING ME AUTHOR CHAN
> 
> guys... I think I'm gonna wrap this up soon. Nice and satisfying, ya know? It's been almost a month working on this thing and I know that I probably should write more... but I think Life in Bloom should finish with a bang. 100% will be writing more stories but I think this one will come to a close in a few more chapters. Yall who stayed with me for a month and kept up with me, thank you so much! I love you, my entities!
> 
> I'm on Instagram but like.... I dont use it that much lmao
> 
> anyway, it's not like it's ending yet so until then, LETS PARTAYYYYYYYYYYYYY *epic raving*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo *takes off hat* I think... I think you become an uncle today
> 
> the nephew is beautiful. we all know Tsukishima is sobbing right now at how amazing the child is and Yamaguchi is a proud mother. 
> 
> its been decided. Golden Retriever comes in next chapter :))))
> 
> DOGS OR CAT PEOPLE TELL ME
> 
> its hard aint it because theres like kenma (cat) and yamaguchi (dog)
> 
> I nominate fish

They arrived at Kuroo’s apartment again. Kenma slipped off the motorbike and tugged the helmet off, taking a deep breath. 

“I wanna do something,” Kenma mumbled. Kuroo looked at him. 

“Uh- like what?” he asked, pulling off his own helmet. 

“About the public,” Kenma answered, staring at the apartment building absentmindedly. “I need to make a video.”

“Okay,” Kuroo smiled at him. “Let’s go in first.”

The two of them climbed the stairs, not talking. Kenma had the gears in his head turning furiously as he thought about the video he was about to make. He didn’t want to think.  _ It’s too tiring _ , he thought as they entered Kuroo’s place. 

“You left your PSP here,” Kuroo told him as they made their way to the living room. “It was in your hoodie. I took it out yesterday.”

Kenma nodded, then made a beeline for the PSP. He sat down on the couch, Kuroo following as he opened up to his strange comfort game: Metal Gear Solid: Peace Walker. To be honest, Kenma didn’t enjoy these types of games. He didn’t like jumpscare games, or action-packed ones. He only played them either for his fans or to pass the time. And it worked. He fiddled and tapped and clicked so many times that he forgot where he even was. All that mattered was playing this game. Kenma let everything go, let everything sink out of his mind comfortably. He didn’t even realize Kuroo staring at him nervously as he played. 

But Kuroo didn’t say a thing. He just observed him carefully, Kuroo occasionally tucking a stray lock of hair behind Kenma’s ear when it fell in his face. It took fifteen minutes for Kuroo to finally speak up. 

“Hey… Kenma?” Kuroo cleared his throat. Kenma blinked, and forced himself to look away from the screen, furrowing his eyebrows. Kuroo reached over and tugged the game out of Kenma’s tight grip gently. Kenma let him take it. “Weren’t we gonna talk?”

Kenma blinked a few times, then nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Kuroo shifted on the couch. “I have some questions. That okay?”

Kenma felt his hands play with the hem of his hoodie, curling into loose fists as he grabbed at the fabric. “Yeah.”

“I don’t need to know a lot of things. That would…” Kuroo chuckled. “That would be an interrogation. But I do wanna know if… you wanna keep this private… forever? I guess?”

Kenma took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something.”

Kuroo frowned. “Go ahead.”

“I’ve been thinking…” Kenma said slowly. “I think it would be really hard for me to keep us… hidden. Forever. Assuming we stay together forever. Wh-which is no problem!” Kenma blurted. “I do kinda wanna stay together- oh God. Um.”  
An awkward silence settled over them as Kenma dipped his head, snapping his fingers anxiously. 

“Hey,” Kuroo said gently. Kenma looked up. “I wanna stay together, too.”

And Kuroo smiled. Kenma felt the breath knocked out of him as he stared at Kuroo, who was grinning gently and genuinely, almost bashfully. Kenma felt the familiar burn of a blush flushing up his neck and ears. He swallowed. 

“Okay,” Kenma hummed. 

“Go ahead,” Kuroo nodded, encouraging him to continue. 

“Uh,” Kenma chewed his lip. “I need to make a video.”

Kuroo tilted his head. “Does that mean we have to go to your place?”  
“Yeah,” Kenma breathed out, glad that Kuroo caught on. “Yeah, I need to make this professional.”  
“Oh,” Kuroo might have been disappointed. Kenma couldn’t tell, to his frustration. “Okay. C’mon.”

They got off the couch, Kenma clutching his PSP tightly, rehearsing what he was about to say over and over in his mind. They went back down the stairs, not talking to each other. Their shoulders bumped against one another’s, and Kenma took a hand out of his pocket to loop his arm around Kuroo’s before tucking the hand back into his hoodie. Kuroo bit back a smile and tugged Kenma closer to him as they approached the motorbike. They took their places, now familiar with the proper positioning with another person. Kenma wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s waist and pressed his helmet against Kuroo’s back. 

Kenma stared at the passing buildings, whizzing by as they made their way to Kenma’s apartment. It didn’t take long for Kuroo to come to a halt before sliding off the motorbike, helping Kenma off. Kenma looked at his own building, just like he had looked at Kuroo’s. They climbed up the stairs, which were only slightly different from the ones in Kuroo’s complex. The only noticeable difference was that Kenma lived on the fourth floor (he didn’t like stairs) and Kuroo lived on the sixteenth, which always made Kenma tired after a visit. 

At last, Kenma felt like he was truly in his element. He was much more comfortable in areas he was used to, and he took a deep breath as they slipped off their shoes. Kuroo’s apartment smelled like the earth, and desserts. Kenma’s, upon a closer observation, had a distinct scent of warm bread and fruit. He blamed the bread on Oikawa, who turned the corner and gaped at the two of them, the milk bread in his hand almost falling out of his grip. 

“Ken-chan?” Oikawa asked after swallowing his mouthful of milk bread. 

“Yes,” Kenma said firmly. Strangely enough, he felt much more confident considering what he was about to do. “And you need to keep it down. I’m about to do something.”  
Oikawa glanced at Kenma, then at Kuroo, then at Kenma again. A suggestive smirk slid across Oikawa’s features and he raised his eyebrows at Kenma. Kenma tried to cover up his intense blush with a cough, and he shook his head. Oikawa rolled his eyes, smirking, and disappeared into his room, holding his milk bread and cooing at Momo, who followed him. Kenma turned to Kuroo and looked up at him. Kuroo was also a prominent shade of red. 

“So… you brought me here to…” Kuroo cleared his throat. It hit Kenma like a truck, and he choked. 

“NO!” Kenma waved his hands around. “NO, I didn’t!”

“Oh,” Kuroo rubbed his neck. “I mean- I wouldn’t mind… but I felt like-”

“No!” Kenma repeated. “I didn’t. Well, I wouldn’t mind either but- I hate myself.” Kenma rubbed his face with his hands slowly, trying to get rid of the blush. He failed.

“Yeah,” Kuroo said lamely. Kenma thought he sounded pretty pleased. “So we both wouldn’t mind.”  
“I hate you,” Kenma said weakly. Kuroo grinned, despite the red on his ears and cheeks. He leaned down and whispered into Kenma’s ear. 

“Maybe some other time?” he purred. His voice was low, and Kenma finally understood why people could find him sexy. Kenma wanted to collapse and melt into a puddle of Kenma Kozume, right then and right there. He felt his knees buckle slightly, but he swallowed hard. 

“M-maybe?” Kenma mumbled. If he turned a bit more, he would have seen Kuroo’s mile-wide smirk, incredibly smug and incredibly stupid. 

“But,” Kuroo straightened up again. “Of course, we’re not here to do that. What were you about to do again?”  
_Fuck you,_ Kenma thought furiously. Fuck Kuroo and his annoying ability to just unravel Kenma in a split second. _Fuck him. Fuck this. Fuck me-_

_ STOP!  _ Kenma didn’t think he could turn even more red, but he did nevertheless. He cleared his throat and turned to the door to his room. “I was about to make a video.”

“Good kitten,” Kuroo beamed, and Kenma gulped. Why was that hot? Why was Kuroo hot? Why was he himself feeling hot? 

“Shut up, rooster head,” Kenma forced out, and he swiveled promptly on his heel to open the door to his room. Kuroo followed him, and watched curiously as Kenma turned on the ring lights and fixed up his bed. Kenma held up a hand, to indicate that Kuroo shouldn’t take another step, and Kuroo nodded, respectfully staying where he was. Kenma plopped down in his gaming chair but didn’t bother putting the headphones on. It wasn’t like he was about to game anyway. Kenma took a deep breath, bit his lip, and looked over at Kuroo. Kuroo shot him a thumbs-up, beaming. Kenma could tell he was confused, but was still going to support him. Kenma felt a warmth radiate inside of him and he smiled back. He turned to the camera and swallowed. 

“Hey, everyone,” Kenma started, his voice soft. He cleared his throat and continued in a louder tone. “I know I’ve been gone for quite a while due to some… problems.” Kenma inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, picturing the things that he had prepared to say. “I know a lot’s been going on. I’m really good, if any of you are wondering.”

Kenma reopened his eyes and his gaze flicked over to Kuroo. Kuroo nodded slowly and Kenma looked back at the camera. “I need to talk about something. A few weeks ago… a photo? I guess? Was taken of me and someone.”

Kuroo shifted slightly at the “someone” and Kenma tried to ignore it. “Yes. Yes, I was on a date. It was a nice date. I liked it, I mean- you know what?” Kenma sighed and couldn’t help but cringe at himself. This was hard. Fucking hard. “First of all, that person didn’t have the right to take a picture of me and the someone I was with. I don't believe in that. Whoever you are, wherever you are, you shouldn't have done that. That was wrong,” Kenma frowned slightly. “But… but I was wrong too. I should have made this video a long time ago.”

Kenma turned in his chair and faced Kuroo, who raised an eyebrow comically. Kenma bit back a giggle, prayed to Kuroo’s turnip gods, and beckoned for Kuroo to come over. Kuroo blinked. Kenma waved to him again patiently. Kuroo mouthed,  _ You sure? _

Kenma nodded. Kenma wasn’t sure of a lot of things, and he messed up all the time, but he knew that this was what he wanted to do. Kuroo slowly walked over to Kenma and stood behind him in his chair, shifting on his feet nervously and looking at the camera skeptically. 

“This is Kuroo,” Kenma introduced, and Kuroo waved shyly. Kenma chuckled, before saying the next words. “This is my boyfriend.”

Kuroo did a double take at him, and Kenma looked up at him. Kuroo beamed down at him, wider than ever before and Kenma really laughed this time, laughed it all out. 

“So yeah,” Kenma grinned. “I am gay. But let’s make a few things clear. I was on a break because… I am really scared. God, making this video is the scariest thing I have ever had to do in my life. And I know a lot of people are gonna support me on this, and thank you so much. I also know a lot of people aren’t going to like it. And you know what?” Kenma looked straight at the camera. “That is fine. That’s fine, because this is who I am and who I’m with. Plus, I think a lot of you wanna know who Kuroo is now, so I’m handing the camera off to him.”

“Wait, what?” Kuroo blinked. 

“Go ahead,” Kenma nudged Kuroo in the side. 

“But- but- I can’t do this stuff!” Kuroo stammered, rocking back and forth nervously. “Help me!” he hissed at Kenma. 

“Just talk,” Kenma encouraged. Kuroo pursed his lips, but looked at the camera. 

“Um. Hi?” Kuroo cleared his throat. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou. Er. I’m Kenma’s boyfriend?” he was unsure, Kenma knew that. 

“Was that a question or a statement?” Kenma teased. Kuroo seemed to loosen up a bit, his shoulders relaxing from their stiffened state. 

“I’m Kenma’s boyfriend,” Kuroo said, confidently. “I am Kenma’s boyfriend, and that is… that is what I am. Kenma’s boyfriend.” His voice wasn’t very confident anymore.

Kenma burst into laughter, holding his stomach. Kuroo collapsed onto the floor behind him, groaning dramatically. “THAT WAS SO LAME!” Kuroo moaned. 

“Y-you were f-fine,” Kenma hiccupped, trying to fan the tears out of his face. 

“I feel so stupid!” Kuroo exclaimed, thrashing around on the ground. 

“It’s fine, it’s okay,” Kenma gasped, his sides aching from laughing too hard. 

“Damn it!” Kuroo smacked himself on the head before getting to his feet again, not looking at the camera. 

“So,” Kenma continued, serious now. “I just wanted to put this video out there. And this isn’t edited, by the way. My point is, I am still the same person. I am still KodzuKen. You just know more about me now. Thanks, to my supporters. And thanks to my friends,” Kenma finished. “KodzuKen out.”

And he turned off the camera. Kena swiveled around on his chair, the smile sliding off of his face. 

“What did I just do?” he whispered. 

“Aw, Kenma,” Kuroo dropped to his knees to look him in the eyes. “You were brave! I’m really proud of you, kitten!”  
Kenma didn’t regret filming the video. That was for sure, but he was scared to press that upload button. The whole world was going to see it. And the world was pretty big.

“Hey,” Kuroo said gently. “Look at me.”

Kenma glanced at him. 

“Whatever they send at us, we go through it together,” Kuroo said firmly. “No matter what.”  
Kenma let out a heavy sigh and leaned forward, kissing Kuroo on the nose. “Thanks.”

“Y-yeah,” Kuroo stammered. “No pr-problem.”  
Kenma grinned as he turned around in his chair and got to work. He was true to his word, he wasn’t sending this video to his editor. All he was doing was uploading the video and publishing it. 

But his mouse hovered over the “Publish” button. Kenma felt his breathing hike up a notch, and his hand trembled. He felt a weight push down on the back of the chair behind him and looked up to see Kuroo leaning on the chair. He blinked down at Kenma and nodded. Kenma nodded slowly back, and turned to the screen again. 

A hand slid over his, enveloping both the mouse and his hand comfortably. Kenma swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut. He fucked society in his mind. 

Then he clicked the button. Kuroo let out a loud whoop and clapped his hands together. 

“You did it!” Kuroo crowed, and Kenma stared at this man. This man, who supported him and forgave him and accepted him. This man, who was currently having his own dance party in Kenma’s room. This man, who beamed at him like he really mattered in life. Kenma felt a smile break across his face as he slid out of the chair and tackled Kuroo in a hug, pushing them both onto the bed. Kuroo hugged back, laughing and stroking Kenma’s hair and Kenma felt so insanely happy that he wanted to shout, wanted to scream, wanted to love everything in the world. 

“Ah, I’m so glad that you did it,” Kuroo sighed happily. They were in a very close position, Kuroo lying on his back and Kenma resting on his stomach, his chin on Kuroo’s chest. 

“Yeah,” Kenma said. “Me too.”

“I really am proud of you,” Kuroo smiled. “That took some serious bravery.”

“I can tell,” Kenma rocked his head side to side. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Kuroo cupped Kenma’s face in his hands and smoothed his cheeks with his thumbs. 

“Are you scared?” Kenma murmured, leaning into Kuroo’s touch. 

“Hm? Nah,” Kuroo shook his head. “Are you?”

“A little,” Kenma mumbled. 

“You don’t need to be,” Kuroo reassured. “Remember? I’m your knight in shining armor!”

“You sure are,” Kenma closed his eyes happily. “A ridiculous one, though.”

“Oi!” Kuroo complained. “Am not!”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”  
“Are too.”

“... I hate that you’re right.”

“First time for everything.”

“Don’t say that,” Kuroo scolded. “Don’t say that about yourself. I will make sure to shower you aggressively with kisses and flowers and mushy-gushy stuff.”

“Oh, no,” Kenma joked. 

“Oh yes,” Kuroo said seriously. “We should celebrate this momentous occasion.”

“Hm?” Kenma hummed. “Should we?”

“Duh,” Kuroo scoffed. “You, a not-so-shy little kitten, just summoned up the bravery to tell the globe who you are.”

“I guess I just did,” Kenma smiled. He felt proud of himself, strangely. He felt accomplished. Should he feel like this? Wasn’t it a bit selfish?

But one look at Kuroo, on his back in front of him peacefully, banished all remaining doubts from his head. He was lucky, insanely lucky to have met Kuroo Tetsurou. 

“Alright,” Kenma agreed. “We can go celebrate.”

“Yay!” Kuroo exclaimed. “Let’s go to the place where it all started. For that extra  déjà vu ,  ya know?”

“Life in Bloom?” Kenma asked. 

“Life in Bloom,” Kuroo nodded. “I think I’m an uncle today.”


	35. Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ETSUKO I LOVE HER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA MOMO AND ETSUKO NEED TO MEEETTTT\
> 
> #momoforpresident
> 
> Momo is just- so beautiful, so supportive, the gal in Kenma's life that we needdddd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im going by majority vote here
> 
> 1\. End the story  
> 2\. Add an cute epilogue  
> 3\. Whatever you want, comment below on an idea!
> 
> its not ending! IF 1 GETS CHOSEN I WILL MAKE SURE TO POST JUST ONE MORE CHAPTER BUT IF 2 GETS CHOSEN I'LL DO ONLY THE SWEET EPILOGUE CHOOSE WISELY

They ended walking to Life in Bloom. Kuroo felt like even the weather was celebrating Kenma’s coming out to the world, with the puffy-white clouds and startlingly blue skies. Oikawa had seen them off, leaning on the doorframe and smirking after the two of them in satisfaction. Momo had wound around Kuroo’s legs and shot him a hard look. He promised to protect Kenma and keep him safe, and Momo may have nodded at him before slinking away. Kuroo blinked, but he’d seen so much weird shit that he was no longer surprised. Besides, Kenma loved that smart cat, so Kuroo was going to trust Momo. 

Kuroo was giddy, happy, floating on clouds and taking Kenma with him. Their walk consisted of Kuroo singing “Olivia” by One Direction and replacing the Olivia’s with Kenma, and he swelled up with pride at seeing Kenma blush and look away. 

“You have a nice voice,” Kenma said quietly. 

“I’m just such a great singer,” Kuroo pretended to toss his hair. “But thank you.”

“Didn’t know you listened to One Direction,” Kenma grinned at their feet, his hand locked securely in Kuroo’s larger one. 

“I waited in line for, like, ever to get tickets for those boys,” Kuroo declared. “I love them.”

“Of course you do,” Kenma laughed, the sound resonating and Kuroo couldn’t help but grin as well. 

“I need more love songs to put you into,” Kuroo mused. Then he promptly began belting “Stereo Hearts” at the top of his lungs. 

“Kuroo!” Kenma hissed, trying to shush him, but failing miserably. 

“Can’t stop me~” Kuroo sing-songed, dancing a bit. 

“You’re so embarrassing,” Kenma shook his head. The smile on his face told otherwise. 

“I’m your embarrassing boyfriend,” Kuroo ruffled Kenma’s hair.  _ Boyfriend. BOYFRIEND.  _

Kuroo had to restrain himself from whooping to the world, but instead did a little dance while swinging Kenma’s hand joyfully. “There she is,” Kuroo beamed, looking at the flower shop coming up in front of them. He could actually hear the barking from a mile away, and Kenma’s eyes widened.

“Dog?” Kenma asked. 

“My niece, apparently,” Kuroo said proudly. He heard familiar voices as they approached, a few laughing and one trying to calm the situation down. They opened the door, the bell tinkling happily above them. Kuroo felt a smile spread across his face as he watched the scenario in front of him fold out. 

Tsukishima had his phone out, covering his enormous smile, which Kuroo was surprised to see. Yamaguchi was kneeling on the floor, baby-talking and patting his thighs. Bokuto was behind Tsukishima, laughing at Akaashi, who was trying to wrangle the golden puppy, who bounded around in the space in front of the door. 

“Etsuko!” Yamaguchi scolded as the dog skidded to a halt in front of Kuroo and Kenma. Kenma ducked behind Kuroo, and Kuroo felt his heart melt as he looked down at the puppy with a silky, light-gold coat and big, pleading eyes the color of chocolate.   
“Awwww,” Kuroo cooed, and he knelt down as well. The dog- Etsuko- began wagging her tail and stumbled over her comically large feet as she approached Kuroo. Kenma was smiling, Kuroo could tell, and even though Kenma was most definitely a cat person, Etsuko was going to be the one exception. 

“She’s cute,” Kenma commented as Etsuko sniffed his palm curiously. 

“Newest addition to the family!” Bokuto crowed happily, making Tsukishima bat him away. 

“I’m the uncle, right?” Kuroo looked expectantly at Yamaguchi, who scooted over to them. 

“Of course!” Yamaguchi giggled, Etsuko boinging over to him and licking his face enthusiastically. “She likes you, I can tell.”

“Etsuko,” Kuroo mused. “Happy name for a happy girl.”

“Kurbrooooo!” Bokuto shouted, and tackled him in a hug. Kuroo laughed. It was so happy, among the flowers and the people and the dog. It was so extremely happy that apparently, Tsukishima wasn’t wearing his signature scowl. Kuroo and Bokuto sauntered over to him, and Tsukishima eyed them warily. 

“So,” Bokuto crooned, wrapping an arm around Tsukishima’s lanky shoulders. 

“Tsukki-dude,” Kuroo grinned. 

“What?” Tsukishima demanded. 

“Oh, nothing,” Kuroo said innocently. 

“We’re just here to annoy you,” Bokuto finished. 

“I hate you both,” Tsukishima grumbled, but his frown disappeared when Etsuko scrambled over to him and pawed at his legs. Tsukishima chuckled, and Kuroo and Bokuto both did a double-take. 

“What.” Kuroo raised his eyebrows. 

“You can laugh?” Bokuto gaped. 

“Shut up!” Tsukishima snapped at them, and continued making kissy-noises at Etsuko, who wriggled around. 

“Who are you and what have you done with Tsukki-dude?” Kuroo asked in awe. 

“Hey, Yamaguchi!” Bokuto called out to the green-haired man. “You’ve changed Tsukki-dude! Stick around!”

“I plan to!” Yamaguchi promised, and he sank down next to Tsukishima. 

Kuroo noticed Akaashi and Kenma talking quietly in the back, and he and Bokuto scurried over to them. 

“Whatcha doing?” Kuroo leaned over. 

“You’re snooping,” Kenma wrinkled his nose at Kuroo. Kuroo took advantage of the moment and kissed him on the scrunched-up nose. 

“You’re gossiping like moms,” Bokuto pointed out, wrapping an arm around Akaashi, who leaned in slightly. 

“Just planning out our ice cream date,” Kenma said calmly. Kuroo gasped. 

“B-but!” Bokuto stammered. 

“We thought you were joking!” Kuroo exclaimed. 

“There’s an excellent place just a few blocks down,” Akaashi nodded at Kenma, who nodded back. 

“HEY!” Bokuto and Kuroo both complained. 

“Maybe we should invite Yamaguchi-san,” Akaashi added. 

“Good idea,” Kenma nodded again. “Yamaguchi-san?”

“I heard my name!” Yamaguchi skipped over to them, Etsuko and Tsukishima following. 

“Would you like to join us on a date for ice cream?” Akaashi asked bluntly. 

“What?” Tsukishima scowled. Yamaguchi blinked, looked at Tsukishima’s expression, then at Kenma and Akaashi. 

“Yes, please!” Yamaguchi beamed, sunshine practically radiating from his smile. 

“No!” Tsukishima cut in. Yamaguchi ignored him and slipped over to the duo, Etsuko bounding after him. Yamaguchi pulled out a purple leash from his pocket and clipped it onto the puppy’s matching purple collar, who barked and ran in a circle, growling at the leash. 

“Wait-” Bokuto, Tsukishima, and Kuroo all cut in. They looked at each other, then turned back to their collective boyfriends. 

“We should get a say in this!” Kuroo insisted. 

“Yeah! Why can’t we come?” Bokuto whined, pouting at Akaashi, who softened only slightly. 

“Because we need a day off from you,” Yamaguchi nodded. “All of you are handfuls.”

Tsukishima’s jaw dropped. 

“That’s true,” Kenma agreed.

Kuroo’s eyes widened. 

“Have fun at the shop,” Akaashi smiled softly. 

Bokuto’s hair drooped. 

“You’re taking the puppy, too?” Kuroo asked weakly, looking at Etsuko, who tilted her head at him curiously. She was most likely very confused, and Kuroo felt the same way. 

“Yes,” Yamaguchi bent down to pet Etsuko comfortingly. “I may have to stay outside, but you two can get ice cream for me, right?”

“Of course,” Kenma reassured him. Yamaguchi’s antenna waved happily as he straightened again. 

“Well, bye!” Yamaguchi waved with his free hand. 

“Why does it feel like they’re gonna leave us not just for ice cream?” Bokuto moaned, sticking out his bottom lip at Akaashi. Akaashi pet his head gently. 

“We’ll be back. And I’ll get you ice cream, too,” Akaashi smiled. Bokuto’s hair perked up only slightly. 

“Don’t blow up the shop! Tsukki, stay in the back room when customers come!” Yamaguchi called as they filed out. 

“And get along!” Kenma ordered.

“Kou, don’t mope for too long,” Akaashi gave Bokuto one last pat. “We’ll be back soon.”

And then their boyfriends were gone, Tsukishima, Bokuto, and Kuroo staring at the door. 

“What the fuck,” Tsukishima said blandly. 

“What you said,” Bokuto blinked. 

“Well,” Kuroo cleared his throat. “What now?”

“I will goddamn kill you if you come near me,” Tsukishima sniffed, then stalked away from the two of them into the hallway. Bokuto and Kuroo looked at each other before sighing together. 

“Well?” Bokuto prompted. “It’s  _ your  _ shop.”

Kuroo looked around, at the shelves cluttered with trinkets and the brightly colored flowers scattered around the floor. The smooth countertop and the tiled ground, the space in front of the door wide and basked in sunlight that filtered through the windows, their blinds open and revealing the strangely peaceful city. 

“Yeah,” Kuroo smiled. “I guess it is.”


	36. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow. 
> 
> I got this feeling inside me, ya know, like that feeling before you go on a rollercoaster? Well, this marks the end of Life in Bloom. Entities, I have a few things to say. 
> 
> It is currently 9:19 where I am. I am listening to Panic! at the Disco's Death of a Bachelor. The sun is shining. I'm kinda sleepy, but in a good way. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for supporting me, for commenting, for reading. 36 chapters in, over a month later, I have finished. I will live on, though. I plan on doing KyouHaba, maybe EraserMic, and some MomoJirou. I am not dead, so keep commenting! But to the fun part cuz I'm going out with a BOOM CHICKA POP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many people I wanna acknowledge, but that would take up all the space I had. So, you know who you are. *winks* the people who commented and gave me ideas and kept me going. Less than three you guys. Less than three. 
> 
> I suppose Life in Bloom comes to a close now. 
> 
> WELL DONT CRY ABOUT IT, AUTHOR CHAN! SUCK IT UP AND PARTAYYYYYYYYYYYYYyyYYYYY *epic music ensues* YALL! I! FINISHED! THANKS! TO! *points* YOU! and *points* YOU! and *points at you* YOU!!!!
> 
> THank you thank you thank you so so so much for getting me through this. Life in Bloom was so fun to write thanks to my entities! I will continue calling you guys my entities in future stories *hehe*
> 
> i dunno how to say this without being cheesy, but yall are amazing. Give yourselves a round of applause for keepin up with yours truly!
> 
> Take a bow!  
> Take a bow! 
> 
> *applauds for you*
> 
> and I will see yall in the next fic!
> 
> QuitePuzzleIAm, out!
> 
> *kachooowwwww*

Kuroo liked working a day shift. During the sunny hours, he got to meet a multitude of people and he got to help the multitude of people as well. He got to see their grins, the light in their eyes brighten when he came out with a bouquet or arrangement put together just perfectly. He got to see a girl laugh, a man nod his head, a grandmother hug him in thanks. Kuroo gave and gave and gave and he finally realized that giving was a beautiful thing, something that swelled him up with joy, something that filled him with warmth and contentment. What Kuroo knew now was that he was getting from people as well.

He got to work with Yamaguchi Tadashi, an angel at his job and an angel everywhere else. Etsuko was growing at an alarming rate, and Tsukishima told Kuroo that the dog was the one walking Yamaguchi, not the other way around. 

He started understanding Tsukishima Kei just a little bit more, and that his attitude didn’t match who he really was on the inside. Kuroo discovered this when Tsukishima slunk into Life in Bloom alone one day, requesting a fabulous arrangement of roses for a certain freckled angel. Kuroo had smirked knowingly, and fulfilled his wishes. 

Kuroo got into shenanigans with his ultimate bro, Bokuto Koutarou, and, to his incredible amazement, he had walked in on quite a scene. It went something like this:

“Okay. Can you say ‘bro’?” Bokuto encouraged Kenma. 

“Uh-” Kenma cleared his throat. “What?”

“Bro!” Bokuto chirped. “It’s easy, c’mon!”

“Wh-what?” Kenma repeated, slightly nervous. 

“Say ‘bro’ and I will leave you alone!” Bokuto bounced on the couch eagerly. Kuroo pulled out his phone quietly and tried not to laugh as he started recording. 

“Don’t do it, Kenma-san,” Akaashi said in his calm voice. “You will be considered a ‘bro’ for the rest of your life.”

“AGHAAASHGIII!” Bokuto clapped his hands. “You said it, too!”  
“Oh, no,” Akaashi mumbled. 

“Fine,” Kenma sighed. “Bro.”

_ I am so lucky to have this man,  _ Kuroo thought as he ended the recording and pounced on top of Bokuto, starting a massive pillow fight and getting Akaashi to laugh, which was a major accomplishment. 

Akaashi Keiji, someone who Kuroo never really appreciated until he realized how big of a part he played in Bokuto’s life. Kuroo caught rare glimpses of a calm Bokuto, eyes half-lidded and his mouth curled into a smile as he rested his head in Akaashi’s lap, Akaashi petting the wild hair. Akaashi was a nice person to come to when Kuroo needed help, help that didn’t come from a crazed owl. 

Oikawa Tooru, who greeted him at the door whenever he went over to Kenma’s. Oikawa was stuck-up, yes, and was filled with pride and ego, but the way he looked at him made Kuroo realize that Oikawa cared way too much for him to let out. His true self was buried somewhere under his impeccable fashion sense and admittedly perfect hair. 

And then there was Kenma Kozume. Kuroo couldn’t describe Kenma in just one word. He couldn’t describe Kenma in a whole essay, even if he had all the goddamn paper in the world. Kuroo and Kenma. Kenma and Kuroo. Soon enough, their names fit together like puzzle pieces, and Kenma fit into Kuroo’s heart like the last piece, snug and perfect. 

Kuroo was learning more about Kenma every day. Kenma liked fuzzy socks, and large clothing to wrap himself up in, and Kuroo was very willing to give Kenma his clothes. Kenma may have been a strict cat person, but he went soft for Etsuko whenever Yamaguchi came over. Momo watched over it all with her calculating blue eyes, purring and meowing happily when Kuroo came to Kenma’s. 

Kenma slowly started making videos again, and not just gaming ones. He started bringing Kuroo and Momo in, and he did some challenges and dares given to him. Kenma laughed too, something he never did in most of the gaming videos he filmed before Kuroo. Kenma was more carefree, he cracked jokes and played with Momo and looked like he had  _ fun,  _ and that only made him even more attractive. He wasn’t afraid to show affection around Kuroo on camera, either. In fact, he acted just like he would in real life, which made Kuroo insanely proud. 

Kuroo took Kenma’s hand and led him in their adventures of a new relationship. Yes, Kuroo steered them into new places and further, unexplored places, but Kenma was full of surprises, too. He liked to test Kuroo, see what drove him crazy to the point of wanting to full-on tackle Kenma and smother him in kisses, their bodies pressed together, warm and comforting. And the best way to do that was to laugh. Kuroo loved, loved,  _ loved  _ Kenma’s laugh. It sounded like chimes, musical and uplifting, genuine and brightening up the entire room. He imprinted the sound into his memory and found that if he tickled under Kenma’s chin, the latter would burst into uncontrollable laughter. 

Kuroo knew that Kenma was hesitant. And not just in their relationship. An opportunity, a chance could come his way and he would still wait, like a cat, not pouncing but examining for an eternity. Kuroo was verbal, he was talkative and chatty and he used that to his advantage, showering Kenma in compliments and encouraging words. Even the smallest accomplishment was celebrated, usually with a firm kiss or a reassuring hug. 

Kenma had his own way of helping Kuroo. Kenma was not a talkative person. Instead, he was more of a touchy-clingy one. So when Kuroo had his bad days and stormed back to the apartment in a gloom or a rage, Kenma got up from wherever he was and pulled Kuroo to the couch. He would wrap his arms around Kuroo and hug him tightly, playing with his hair and holding him for what seemed like hours. Kuroo was always quick to respond, gripping onto Kenma and burying his face into his shoulder, his breath tickling Kenma’s neck. Kenma was willing to play his part and help Kuroo, just like Kuroo was willing to do for him. 

Slowly but surely, Kuroo started noticing Kenma in his life, for real. His phone screen wallpaper had been changed to a silhouette of the two of them, looking up to the stars. Akaashi had sent it to him, and Kuroo stared at the picture for hours, a grin covering his face. Kenma came to his apartment and Kuroo went to Kenma’s equally, offering comfort in each of their places. They had exchanged apartment keys three months into their relationship, and Kenma had started crying silently when he took Kuroo’s key, a cat charm dangling off the end. Kuroo laughed, and held Kenma tight, gripping his own key to Kenma’s apartment, complete with a tiny red heart charm. Kenma had gotten them intricate bracelets as well, Kuroo’s red and white, Kenma’s black with a hint of neon-pink. When they held hands, Kuroo couldn’t help but smile at seeing the bracelets melded together, the colors mixing and blending into each other nicely. 

Four months into their relationship, Kuroo hadn’t been thinking. Kenma was sitting on a chair in Life in Bloom, fiddling with his PSP when Kuroo came out with a perfect red rose dramatically. He sauntered up to a grinning Kenma and flourished the flower. 

“For you, milord,” he bowed. Kenma covered his face with a hand and took the flower, a blush creeping across his face. Kuroo snorted and kissed Kenma on the forehead. “Love you.”

There was a moment of silence before Kuroo realized what he had just said. Kenma stared up at him, his golden eyes widened and Kuroo faltered.

“Oh- hold up,” he stammered. “I mean- wait.” He rubbed his face with his hands and bit his lip. “Well, I mean. I do mean it. So I’m not taking it back.”

Kuroo nodded in satisfaction and looked back at Kenma stubbornly, feeling heat crawling across his cheeks. Luckily, Kenma was matching his same blush. Kenma cleared his throat and gripped the rose a bit tighter. 

“I…” Kenma took a deep breath and looked away, now a furious shade of magenta. He held the rose up to Kuroo and Kuroo blinked. “You too.”

Ah. The red rose. A symbol of affection, love, and romance. Strange, how all this time, Kuroo had been giving love to Kenma but had never said it. 

“Ihluyto,” Kenma mumbled. 

“What?” Kuroo swallowed. 

“I love you, too,” Kenma said, just above a whisper. 

“Oh,” Kuroo felt a smile coming on. He nodded his head and shifted on his feet. “Well, I love you more.”

“I love you most,” Kenma looked back at him with a challenge in his eyes. The same look Kenma took on when he played a game against other people. Kuroo smirked and he sat down next to Kenma, staring at him intently. 

“I love you more than anything,” he shot back. It was cheesy, but their matching blushes and smiles took away from the awkwardness. 

“I love you more than I love gaming,” Kenma fired. Kuroo gasped and held a hand to his chest. 

“I love you more than you love apples,” Kuroo snickered. 

“I love you,” Kenma started out slowly, leaning toward Kuroo. “More than you love Bokuto.”

“YOU WIN!” Kuroo wailed, collapsing against the counter. “You win, kitten.”

“Of course I do,” Kenma puffed out his chest. 

“Do you really mean it, though?” Kuroo asked, holding his breath. 

“Yeah,” Kenma answered immediately, and Kuroo wanted to faint or pass out. 

“Oh,” was all Kuroo could stammer. 

“Well,” Kenma hopped out of his chair. “Love you. I love you. Loooove you. Love yooouuu.”

“Stop,” Kuroo flushed. “You’re killing me.”

“Taken damage, have we?” Kenma laughed. He continued trying out the phrase, singing it and twirling around the empty shop. Kuroo watched him, the other’s eyes closed as he held out his arms and spun around in a circle, humming. The sunlight shone onto him and Kuroo wondered for a moment, how had he managed to get so lucky? Just from a huge crush on a guy who wanted a fuck-you bouquet?

“I love you,” Kuroo whispered, so quietly that Kenma couldn’t hear it over his singing. “Fuckin’ cheesy, but I really love you.”

“Love is really overused, huh?” Kenma stopped twirling to stare at Kuroo. 

“A little bit,” Kuroo admitted. Kenma tilted his head before plopping back down on the seat. 

“Okay,” Kenma mused. “There’s adored, cherished, treasured-”

“NO!” Kuroo moaned. “You’re killing me again!” It was true, his face was painted with a rose-red blush. 

Kenma laughed, the sound reverberating around the shop. “Should we just use love, then?”

“I… I less than three you,” Kuroo said. 

“What?” Kenma snorted. 

“Ya know,” Kuroo mumbled, rubbing his neck. “Less than three? The heart symbol?”

“Oh my gosh, you’re such a nerd,” Kenma giggled, and pulled Kuroo into a kiss. Kuroo smiled against Kenma's lips and wrapped his arms around Kenma’s waist, dipping him and causing Kenma to laugh as well. And illuminated by the sunlight and surrounded by flowers, the two of them held each other, gentle caresses, soft yet secure. 

Kuroo supposed his life was finally in bloom. 


End file.
